I Bless the Rains

Kilimanjaro, Kilimanjaro

2010-06-09T04:31:00.025-04:00

(Written 5/31-6/1/2011)

As I write this from inside an air conditioned house with a big-screen TV blaring a trashy American network talent show, I look back on my time in Tanzania with both regret and the fondest memories. It just so happens that I also never posted any sort of wrap-up for the three of you who kept up with this. Hopefully nobody was worried that I hadn't quite made it home after the last post...and for anybody who did, I apologize for waiting a year. As I returned to this page to finally put the blog to rest, I found this gem of a draft, dated 6/10/2010, waiting for me:

"Talk about multi-tasking. I'm writing this post as I pack up my life again to head home. The last week has gone by like a downhill dala-dala, but the week before that was very pole pole (slow). For those of you who don't know already, on clear days I have had a perfect view of Mount Kilimanjaro from my back door. I have seen other mountains in my life, but the fact that this rises alone out of the savannah and displays glaciers in the middle of Africa means that jaws are dropped very frequently among those new to Moshi. Curiosity killed the cat, but I'm more of a dog person, so I decided to climb it as my last adventure in Tanzania."

The hill behind my house

So packing turned out to keep me pretty busy. And waiting until the last minute to pack and post maybe wasn't the greatest idea. And then Europe happened. And then visiting friends happened. And then searching for jobs and buying a car and applying to schools and Christmas happened and hockey season happened. But to be completely honest, it wasn't a total coincidence that I happened to pick today to revisit the blog. Exactly one time around the sun ago, at this moment, I was approaching the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. In a fitting conclusion to my time in Moshi and my attempts to share it with you, I hope to share what I can remember from the climb and my journey back to Durham.

Perhaps as a bit of foreshadowing of my last night in Tanzania, an all-nighter was definitely pulled before my early morning departure to climb the highest mountain in Africa. Two of Malavika's friends from the U.S., Matt and Maneesh, had decided to do Kili as a part of their world tour. They are not a small boy band, but rather two med students taking time off before residencies. Leading the operation was Peter (aka Pasian), the independent organizer of my safari trip with Maria. This meant two things: it could get a bit disorganized, and we got Sayid as a cook. While the latter outweighed the former (more on that later), we still had to push through some uncertainty at the beginning of the journey. Although the trip pricing was set for four people, we only had three that we knew of. The night before the trip, we had to meet Pasian in town to pick out the supplies we would need to rent and go over a few last minute details. So I headed to the designated shop in town, picked out boots, socks, rain gear, walking poles, etc...all while waiting for Pasian to show up. Not a big deal, except Matt and Maneesh's bus from Dar had been late, so they were still straightening things out back at the compound. That really wasn't a big deal either, as they eventually showed up and we finally got to meet Blake, the fourth member of the group. Blake (or "Blacky" to our guides) was another American, but he had traveled all the way from his UN job in Malawi to climb Kili. In typical Tanzanian fashion, things had unraveled and naturally smoothed themselves over. We had to wait until the first morning of the trek for them to fall apart again.

Our patience is finished.

Fully packed and completely nervous about everything from the weather to my boots (I'd had serious boot problems climbing Meru), our door-to-door private dala-dala picked up most of the constituent parts of the climbing party. Like many trips set up by individuals (as opposed to larger companies), our organizer himself didn't take part in the climb. Instead, a quiet but cheery man named Nestor was to be our head guide. I could tell early on that Nestor didn't speak as much English as many of the other guides, but his claim of having climbed the mountain over 100 times put any doubts to rest. Except for his name, that is. Until about the fourth day of the trip, all the mzungu members of our group thought our guide was named "Nesto" or "Ernesto." The fact that he put up with this for so long gives you a glimpse into how patient one has to be to not only climb that mountain so many times, but also to lead lazy foreigners up its slopes. Anyway, the ride to our starting point of Machame seemed to last a few hours longer than the 30 minutes it took. In the TANAPA tradition, the entrance to the national park was an impressively monstrous gate connected to a half-finished office/bathroom complex. On planet earth, this would be a quick stop to smooth over details before departing, right? Wrong. Due to issues with paperwork and the credit card machine, we were stranded for at least two hours in twitching anticipation of the mountain that was literally breathing down our necks. If this sounds familiar, the same kind of thing happened in both Arusha and the Serengeti. In this instance it was convenient for the hawkers reaching through the gate, and I had learned to just laugh it off. It was also time for us to meet the surprise fifth member of our group. This young Swedish woman's name somehow escapes me one year later. I know this is inexcusable after spending six trying days in a group with her, but I'm sure I'll remember as soon as this is posted. (I also hope her powerlifting hobby and new husband are treating her well back home.) Anyway, things were straightened out by Pasian and we set out significantly later than expected...strangely just before the threat of darkness would have sent us back to town.

Day one in the rainforest

The hike on day one was surprisingly easy physically, but marred by a mix of heavy drizzle and light rain. We reached camp after about three and a half hours of a moderate climb on a wide open trail through (go figure) a rainforest. We heard a few monkeys, but for the most part it was just a wet, shady, mossy day hike. After overcoming all the inertia at the starting line, we were ready to just get set up at camp and rest up. The one piece of advice I didn't read beforehand (probably because it was omitted as common sense) was that moisture is your enemy on trips like this. I had worn shorts all day, but the nighttime temperature was easily down in the lower 50s at our first camp. This doesn't sound bad, but when one set of your clothes is wet and the warm sweatshirt you brought was somehow set aside on top of a soaking wet tent, sleeping isn't necessarily pleasant. I guess the real kicker in this scenario was that groups are not allowed to build fires on the mountain due to limited access to firewood. Gas stoves are carried up for food, but this leaves no options for drying out clothing besides shivering out some body heat from inside your sleeping bag. Repeat this four more times at increasing altitude and daytime sweat, and decreasing temperature, and you have an idea of what my nights were like that week.

Another course arriving at the dinner tent

The nights weren't all that bad, as our heroic crew of porters cooked us an astounding amount of food. Sayid (pictured below) has probably been at this for a handful of decades, and the dozen or so others showed superhuman strength in (sometimes literally) running ahead of the group to set up camp at the end of the day. With most of the gear. Without liters and liters of water. The truly sad part about this is that the hardest workers earned only little more than what we expat college students could scrape up for tips at the end. Of the over $1000 per person (often 4-5 times that amount for luxury companies), most goes to park fees that support the fiasco that had almost kept us grounded. Fair or not, these guys come from all over to grind out trip after trip whenever possible. The work setting is much more breathtaking than my current office, and it's not a bad place to spend time with friends who happen to also be colleagues, but the pay would be simply considered inhumane in this country.

Sayid and Nestor yukking it up

For the sake of length and my memory, the middle three days almost blend together. The Machame Route we took started us at slight elevation near the 8 o'clock position on the inactive volcano cone. Climbing straight up would make sense, but unfortunately nature did this to the mountain at some point. As a result, we would have to traverse about eight large valleys to reach the 2:30 position and prepare for the final ascent. I had seen the mountain hundreds of times from a distance, but had absolutely no real appreciation for the geographical nuances of Mt. Kilimanjaro. What looks like your stereotypical up and down climb on a snowcapped mountain turned out to be up-up-uppp-downn-up-down-uppp-downnnn-upppp-down-upp-downnn-uppp-downn-uppppppppppppppppppppppp-downnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Do I even need to write more after that description?

It's slightly larger from close-up.

Day two presented a slightly longer hike that transitioned us from mossy foggy rainforest to misty dreary rocks with some plant life. Four or so hours of a pretty straightforward uphill hike led us to Shira Camp. A wide open rock field with a 180 degree vista over a steep drop-off, we spent our second night here wondering what was really ahead. The night would be significantly colder than our first. The nearby helipad also served as the highest point of evacuation in case of an emergency. Above this point, the only animals were humans, crows, and field mice, two of which live primarily off the scraps of the third.

A typical camp setup, this one at Shira

As expected (but not desired), we woke up to frost on the door flaps of our tents. The morning porridge provided a crucial warm-up and we began our cut across the southern slope of the mountain. Our third day of hiking served as an acclimatization day, meaning we would hike from 13,000 feet to 16,000 feet, then back down again (farther around the mountain) to camp. This is built into the route to assist climbers with the rigors of pushing up near 20,000 feet at the summit on the final ascent. The other three guys in the group decided early on that they would use medication to prevent altitude sickness, but our Swedish friend and I stubbornly (and possibly somewhat dangerously) decided against it. I had heard varying reviews about what the medications actually do, and at the same time I wanted to at the very least carry my own weight to the top without any help. The med-free group eventually dwindled to one (plus all the Tanzanians), but I did suffer through pretty constant headaches for the last three days. It definitely added to the psychological challenges of the climb, and I know that I was a lot less pleasant to live with these days, but I felt proud after pushing through all of it regardless.

Meru and Blake

Our third camp provided probably the most amazing view of all. Situated in an open area overlooking a rocky river, we saw the mighty Western Breach to the north, the Barranco Wall to the east, and a valley emptying into the sky to our south. Looking up towards the peak, it was finally possible to see all the fine details of each individual glacier and start to grasp the sheer scale of it all. To top it all off, the camp's outhouse probably had the best views of all this, leading Maneesh to declare it the "Most Scenic Outhouse in the World." I also maintain that "Furtwängler" is the absolute greatest glacier name of all time. The next morning we were to climb the imposing wall across the river, but some much-needed sunlight before sundown gave us time to warm up, stretch out, and dry out.

The Great Barranco Wall (right)...

...and our ascent up it

Day four was another up and down day through terrain that looked like it belonged on an asteroid somewhere between the moon and mars. Our climb up the Barranco wall was physically, but not technically challenging. It was the closest we would come to needing gear, but only required some extra care, attention, and effort compared to the rest of our climb. This day was plagued by overthought, as began by climbing this 400-foot wall without knowing that on the other side we would just be descending again. This repeated over and over, and it took us a few repetitions to learn to be pessimistic about what's over that next hill. Nevertheless, we saw some undoubtedly unique rock structures this day, including the breathtaking Mawenzi. From Moshi, this looks like Kibo's annoying little brother. From Barafu Camp ("Ice" Camp, our fourth), it looked like the rocky hand of the devil himself bursting out of the earth. We wouldn't be going anywhere near it, but this just blew me away flanked in the sunset by miles and miles of ancient lava flows.

Mawenzi peak

We arrived at Barafu Camp at about 5pm on the fourth day. The temperature there didn't feel so bad after a strenuous day of hiking, but this changed quickly as the sun disappeared over the mountain to the west. We took in our last view of the peak from a distance before fueling up on rice, porridge, and tea and taking the most important power nap of our lives. We got to sleep four freezing hours from about 7-11pm, then woke up to the earliest/latest breakfast ever. Headlamps and reserve tanks leading us, we set out at midnight in complete darkness. This strategy of night summiting is standard, and I figure it has more to do with not freaking out about your treacherous surroundings than having enough daylight to descend afterwards. These 5 hours and 10 minutes of climbing added up to become one of the hardest things I have ever done.

Some exhausted views from Barafu Camp

After about 45 minutes of a very steep climb we were all winded, freezing, dehydrated, and suffering from headaches. In a move that was either very strange or very ingenious, Nestor never asked if the group needed a break. Being polite kids, however, we had all non-verbally communicated to each other that we desperately needed one. The entire trip up the grueling serpentine path, we probably stopped only six times. At one of these breaks about 3 and a half hours in, I urgently felt the need to put on a third pair of socks. I lived for snow days when I was little, so I know the numbness that comes with exposure to the cold. What I felt was slowly creeping to the next level though, and this decision probably helped avoid a scary situation. To give you an idea of how cold it was, in the time it took me to get my gloves off and untie my left boot, I had lost enough feeling in my fingers that I had to put the gloves back on and warm them up before doing anything else. And it only got colder and windier as we approached the top.

The beginning of the descent--notice the glaciers to the right, and the snow field that is already melting in the sunrise and foot traffic.

As we finally reached a bit of a plateau at Stella Point, the fact that we still saw no sign of the sunrise told us that we had blazed up the final leg. We had passed several groups, and were definitely leading at this point. This news wasn't completely positive, however; we would have to wait 30-45 minutes at the summit if we wanted to see the sunrise in its entirety. Pushing on under balaclavas, the end was in sight. One step at a time, I only needed to cross about 1000 feet of a sidehill snowfield that sloped out of sight down to the base of some enormous glaciers...in the dark...with only one working pole. Experienced climbers would probably scoff at this, but I can say that I at least impressed myself in rallying the determination to trample these obstacles. As surreal as every bit had been to that point, finally reaching the top of that mountain was unbelievable. We had gone [way too] fast and arrived at 5:10am to make us the first group to set foot at the top of the African continent in June of 2010. It was still mostly dark at this point, but it is a pretty indescribable feeling when you can peek over the edge of the land you're standing on to look down at the tops of clouds. We each took our turns for pictures in front of the famous sign and took a few minutes to soak it all in. Millions of people have seen Kili from below, but to look down into its giant crater from the summit with faint hints of orange and pink creeping over the horizon...just wow.

Uhuru Peak

The glaciers were absolutely one of the most sublime things I have ever seen, but some say they will be gone by 2015. Just thinking about how special it was to see these first-hand before they disappear makes me want to go through all the struggles again right now. Even a year later, these moments stick with me like nothing else.

The glaciers (none of these pictures do them--or anything else--justice)

Unfortunately, the decision was made by Nestor that we would have to descend rather than wait for sunrise. The grave look on his face when he told us it would be dangerous to stay much longer in the cold was more than enough to push us back down off of what we had worked so hard for. In retrospect, the mix of exhaustion and relief and altitude and extreme cold prevented me from soaking it all in like I would have at sea level. Like many things, memories and pictures will have to suffice. The hike down literally shed light on what we had done under the cover of darkness. The steep incline we had snaked up at a snail's pace turned into challenging and somewhat reckless pebble skiing straight down. Hours and hours of this (and a few spills on the way) led us back to a real path. Here we...continued to walk downhill for a few hours. After this, we ate lunch and...walked downhill for a while.

7 downhill hours later...

Needless to say, low camp was a welcome sight after walking from midnight to 5pm with few real breaks. After a restful night, and the (muddy) last leg of the downhill, we came to the end of it. Our celebratory lunch at a roadside restaurant in the village of Mweka gave us a chance to reflect on the trip and really thank everyone who helped us through it. The ceremony for tipping each crew member was beautifully Tanzanian, with the climbers saying a few words and calling each person up individually to congratulate them.

Our celebratory feast

Returning to Moshi and what I had come to know as real life was a bit of a struggle. My house welcomed me back without any electricity (or hot water), so I had to hike down to Donato's house a half mile away to take a terribly urgent shower. A few days later, before I knew it, it was also time to pack everything up and say my goodbyes. Between wrapping up at work, buying some last minute gifts, setting up a farewell dinner, and cleaning up my place, the last week in Tanzania was an absolute blur. I was ready to go back home, but there's no doubt I've missed Moshi from time to time in the past year.

Me with the coolest taxi driver ever, Sadiq

If you want a definition of "culture shock," try going from the top of Africa to the streets of Amsterdam in a matter of six days. On my way back to America, I had a great time visiting some new Moshi friends who were already back home in the Netherlands and Germany. Dorien and Christian were beyond kind in letting me stay at their places. I gave Dorien, Mirke, and Henriette an excuse to take a touristy bike tour of Amsterdam before we met up with Jasper and Jacob for dinner and a round of billiards along the Amstel.

Our Dutch biker gang

In Bochum, Germany I met up with Jonas and Christian to catch a few World Cup soccer games outside in the town plaza. Christian also took me to the nearby Zollverein, which is now a converted coal mine and factory complex. The giant brick buildings now serve as a performance and gathering space, as well as a museum covering the history of industry in the area. It really reminded me of the American Tobacco Campus in Durham as another example of creative ways to deal with economic challenges.

England-USA with Christian

From Bochum, I moved on to my favorite city in the world: Berlin. It was even more exciting to be there this time, however, because I was meeting up with two friends from Penn. Sarah and Courtney were at the end of a European trip of their own, and I had a great time showing them some of the highlights I had seen on my first trip there. As proof that there's always something new in Berlin, on the other hand, I got a call from Moshi regular Jan inviting us to watch Germany's soccer game on a 20 foot screen at a beach bar on the Spree River. I was also totally surprised to have a chance to meet up with Junna (another Penn friend), who was visiting from London. Remember the saying about Berlin? We cheered on her home team of Japan at an impromptu backyard bar with a jerry-rigged roof and TV setup. After all of these friends had moved along, I spent my last night in the city at a Jack Johnson concert. I also came to the conclusion that German people love Jack Johnson.

Fun times at the DDR Museum

A few trains and planes later, I was back at RDU and back to the real post-college world in the U.S.. I spent six months trying to find a job, and ended up with three somehow. I was also accepted to grad school and will be starting work towards a Master's in Public Health in the fall. I only share these boring details because they mean I'll be hoping to do more work overseas next summer. Whether that's in Tanzania or somewhere else, I'm not sure for now. Either way, my extended stay in a country halfway around the world gave me experience and perspective that even a million hours of the Discovery Channel or a million issues of National Geographic could provide. That said, I can only express so much with clumsy words and wannabe photography skills. Don't just wonder what it's like; go there and do that.

Thanks so much for reading. I hope you got something out of this, because I sure did.

Some links...
Days 3-5 as mapped on my GPS watch:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/36215336

All of my pictures from Kilimanjaro:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.721038715477.2314907.615904&l=e79002e2e4

A Bit of Everything

2010-05-15T07:47:00.042-04:00

OK, so I've done a lot since last time. In a month, I went on safari, visited a pair of bigger cities, went to two hashes, sat in on mass at a cathedral way up the mountain, played some soccer, and made some progress at work.

Thankfully the zebra didn't charge me to take this one.

The enjoyment I experienced on safari really can't be conveyed to any reasonable level with words alone. There were definitely parts that reminded me just how touristy, routine, cheesy, the whole thing can be these days, but the vast majority of our time was spent simply driving around looking for amazing animals. The fact that we went towards the end of low season certainly helped us avoid crowds in the parks...it was a different story when we wanted to go for a walk by the art shops in town. I should first back up and introduce the other two members of this "we" team. Maria is a good friend I met through Malavika on the Uganda, Naivasha, and Meru trips. She traveled (10 hours on a bus!) up from Dar es Salaam with an Italian visitor named Tito. Maria met Tito while working in Brazil a while ago, so now I was joined by a Portuguese-speaking international dynamic duo on a quest to find some wildlife and translate it into Portuguese.

On the lookout, but seriously, it's still nap time

Our 5 day, 4 night safari took us to Tarangire National Park, Serengeti National Park, and Ngorongoro Conservation Area. Why a conservation area? In the 1960s, a German zoologist named Bernhard Grzimek (CHEE-mek) worked hard to collect evidence on migratory patterns in order to establish the boundary of a new national park. The result, described in the Academy Award winning documentary, Serengeti Shall Not Die (Serengeti Soll Nicht Sterben), was later split into Serengeti and Ngorongoro...the difference being that the latter still permits human settlements in consideration of the local Maasai population. Over half a century of a European presence there can be largely attributed to this work. The Frankfurt Zoological Society still has a building in the Serengeti and the gravesite of Grzimek and his son overlooks the Ngorongoro Crater.

Cruising around the crater

After a long drive from Moshi, we spent the afternoon in Tarangire. The main highlights here were the many elephants hanging out in grassy fields and at watering holes next to huge baobab trees. There were no tourist crowds to be seen here, so we enjoyed the quiet while spotting some giraffes, monkeys, impala, and waterbuck. Our guide claims he saw a big snake cross the road at one point, but the rest of us were too preoccupied to catch a glimpse. Tarangire is also where we first discovered that our car had a spent battery. After waiting for the customary hour at the gate to enter the park, we learned the bad news. No big deal in Tanzania, though, because we certainly wouldn't mind pushing on occasion to get the motor started. Cue the Little Miss Sunshine references and five days of strategically parking on downslopes. Besides the highlights of great scenery/weather/animals, this park also gave us the lowlight of tsetse flies. There was no sleeping sickness involved, but without a thorough dousing of strong DEET these things were vicious. Thankfully we only had to endure their bites on the first day, as the Serengeti has poisoned black and blue cloth traps spread throughout the park to attract them.

The tree and the animal may get old, but not the view.

Our first and last nights were spent at a guest lodge in a medium-sized town called Mto wa Mbu, which is Kiswahili for Mosquito River. Thankfully, fairly recent efforts to combat malaria in this area have been successful. Also impressive was the section of highway leading from just below this town up into the hills on the way to Ngorongoro and Serengeti. Tourism interests most likely inspired the Japanese government to assist with this huge project, and the resulting 80 or so kilometer stretch of (sometimes even divided) highway is probably the nicest in the country. In the town, the road also boasts well-designed pedestrian/bike paths on either side that would probably save hundreds of lives if extended to other areas of Tanzania. Looking for a project? Get to work...

Zebras = Lazy

Bernard and Sayid, our guide and cook, packed us up once again and we headed off to the Serengeti. I can't say enough about the landscape, which went from mountain to valley to expansive savannah over the course of a day. The approach to the park basically consisted of an hour of driving down a straight, flat road. This may seem boring to anyone from Kansas or Nebraska, but it was a new experience for me...oh, and there were animals too. To either side we saw literally thousands of zebras, wildebeest, and Thomson's gazelle, and just before the gate a gaggle of safari cars alerted us to the treat of two cheetahs resting in the ditch. After the somewhat hectic task of scaring animals off the road on the way, these cheetahs served as foreshadowing that most of the animals aren't quite as active as the wildlife footage from TV might suggest. The carnivores rest until they're hungry, and the herbivores eat grass until a carnivore comes around. The only time I saw an animal achieve a pace exceeding a slow walk was when the wildebeest and zebras had to run to avoid our car.

Cheetahs = Lazy, but deadly fast

The picnic site inside the Serengeti gate felt like a zoo with nice bathrooms, a gift shop, and visitors from America, England, South Africa, Germany, Japan, etc. We inhaled our relatively modest boxed lunches and endured another long paperwork waiting game. Thankfully there were some lizards and elephants not far from the parking lot to provide entertainment. The bull elephant somewhere on the other side of a hill provided the only real adrenaline rush of the trip as it let out the only loud trumpet I heard. It was probably my coolest "waiting around in a parking lot" experience, as I got to watch several large elephant families cross the road about 150 meters away.

The harsh truth about life in the Serengeti: Playfighting

The Serengeti was amazing. We saw plenty of animals from close-up (lions, elephants, giraffes, eland, zebras, wildebeest) and others from farther away (leopard, hartebeest, [baby] crocodile), but it was all worth it. One of the highlights was spotting a group of 12 lions resting and keeping watch from the top of a kopje. Eleven of them were females, and the other was a male passed out upside down. Lions can sleep up to 20 hours a day, so I'd like to think I could have been one in a past life. Much of the time was spent simply driving through areas with few exciting animals, but sticking our heads out of the pop-top and catching the 360 degrees of plains kept us more than satisfied. We spent our two nights in the park camping in a typical campsite with bathrooms and cooking and dining shelters. There may have been a chance that buffalo or hyenas would wander into camp, but we were thankfully spared from any awareness thereof. This also happened to fall around the full moon, so the nights really required no flashlight for navigation.

The view opposite the sunset for two nights

The final day in the Ngorongoro Crater also turned out spectacularly. Described as the largest unbroken caldera in the world, and thus a "natural enclosure" (lifted from Wikipedia), the crater is a quick and easy way to spot many different species in a breathtaking setting. Our route was a pretty standard loop around the lake, but the greenery and fields of yellow flowers made for a great place to spot our first hyenas and rhinos. Prior to a more recent gift from South Africa, the three white rhinos we saw accounted for about 5% of the total rhino population in Tanzania. These impressive animals are still hunted for their horns, which can fetch tens of thousands of dollars on the black market. Needless to say, it's a very endangered species.

Look around you. Just look around you.

Seriously though, these places deserve much more description than this, and the pictures say much more than I can in this space. You can click on the bold titles above to view my three photo albums from the trip. The master list of animals we spotted over four days of "game drives" looks something like this:
elephant, zebra, wildebeest, lion, cheetah, leopard, impala, gazelle, hartebeest, eland, jackal, hyena, rhino, croc, buffalo, giraffe, hippo, hyrax, dik dik, monitor lizard, and many different birds
If you want to do something like this at some point in your life, feel free to ask for suggestions or more details.

Dense banana jungle

Since the safari, I've been to two hashes. The first was on another flower farm in the high village of Kibosho. The route took us through a forest of banana trees (which almost got us all lost) and down a few roads where the less-than-welcoming local elderly ladies had swept over the flour marking our path. All in all this was a very nice short hash with some nice river scenery and a few groups of clingy kids with enough energy to run after us (for a while, at least). We also celebrated Greg's (the hash leader/organizer) birthday and spent some quality time bonding with the Dutch host's massive great dane. I also introduced Maria to the art of hashing, which doesn't happen as much in the streets of Dar. The following day, I had a chance to take a ride back up the mountain to see the Kidia Catholic Church in Kibosho. The oldest German church in Tanzania, it reminded me of Duke Chapel (which is beyond impressive considering the setting) as we sat in for a while on the Sunday mass somehow without creating any kind of distraction.

Don't mind the white people with large cameras

The last hash (and also MY last hash here) was at a place called Maji Moto. This is basically a "hot" spring several miles off what could be considered a "beaten path." It basically looks like an oasis in the middle of miles of dry and rough terrain. Popular with foreigners, there's a great picnic site and swimming hole.

Jan doing his best Indiana Jones after being laughed at for his baby backpack

We basically circumnavigated it for the hash, with a creek crossing and high swinging bridge over a river thrown in for good measure. The swimming was fun despite the massive flow of water and rumors from years ago that crocs have been spotted there. Nobody left hurt, save for a few who were nipped in the process of turtle wrangling.

Amazing place...and about twice as blue in person

I have to also mention the two trips I recently took to Arusha and Dar es Salaam. The Arusha trip was put together at the last minute (literally...so much so that I didn't have my camera), as I joined a group of three good Dutch friends on a mission to see something other than Moshi on the weekend. We checked into a hostel and did some walking until we found a natural/cultural history museum complex. The former had some interesting archaeological remnants related to early humans in Africa, while the latter housed an impressive exhibit put together by German and Tanzanian pen pals about the early colonial history of this country. After an Ethiopian dinner and some time at a bar with an interesting character named "Chiddy Bang," we called it a night. On that Sunday, we took the short trip west to the Meserani Snake Park. My eight-year old self was in awe as we passed cases with huge pythons, puff adders, boomslangs, and of course the black mamba. It was mind-boggling just to think about what would happen without the pane of glass, as this creature is also called the seven-step snake...which is how far you'll get after a bite. Speaking of mamba (Kiswahili word for..), crocodiles also made an appearance. It was a new experience to crouch down right next to a huge croc with only a thin (but definitely secure) fence between us. I resisted the urge to channel Steve Irwin as we moved on to hold a harmless snake who was obviously just looking for body heat. The tour wrapped up with the obligatory Maasai museum and we bussed back to Moshi.

Note to self: Three-wheeled vehicles aren't as stable as four-wheeled vehicles

Just this past weekend I experienced my first extended stay in Dar es Salaam. This is one of those "Really? It's not the capital?" cities, as the seat of government was moved to the more geographically-correct location of Dodoma years ago. Although unidentified members of our group slipped in sewage, spent a night on a couch with bedbugs, and sweated through three sets of clothing in a day and a half, it was a really cool city to see. I found myself comparing everything to Moshi, from the cars and ads to the language and cultures. It was definitely less quaint and more metropolitan, even though power cuts and bumpy roads stopped by to say hi from time to time. The main reasons for the visit, the Goat Races and our friend Jeremy's birthday, turned out successful despite (or perhaps because of) a rainy Saturday. The Goat Races are an annual charity event popular among the city's expat community. The state fair atmosphere is centered around seven separate "races" of ten sponsored goats being egged on from behind by a team of handlers. Even though this may have been less than exciting, we got to place small bets (for charity) on the races. The three goats I picked (Go for Goat, Vincent van Goat, and Maynard) all finished either dead last or next-to-last. My luck must have not been working that day, as we later watched Bayern Munich fall in the Champions League final against Inter Milan. If you thought my spirits would be down after that Saturday, you're definitely wrong. Maria and Jeremy have satellite TV at their place in Dar, which is a foreign thing to me at this point. We thus spent more time than necessary watching Teen Cribs, The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo, and live soccer feeds from Portugal and Brazil. The second day, I turned down a chance for a short trip to Zanzibar to save some money, and instead visited a great beach near Dar called Peponi with Jeremy, Maria, and their friend Juma. Aside from the heat, the city really impressed me and walloped any rumors that it's a bad place.

Gentlemen, start your engines

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Last week, I asked for any questions you all may have about Tanzania. I was hoping this might be a break from all the "creative" recaps of my life here, but you really put me to work. A lot of my facts I found in the CIA's World Factbook, but I tried to speak as much as possible from experience. As if this needs a disclaimer, the opinion of an American who has experienced nine months in a country should not be taken as absolute truth. Anyway, enjoy my answers (interspersed with random pictures from my safari, since there are just too many to fit elsewhere):

Are there tribal languages? If so, what is your favorite local language?
In this part of Tanzania the biggest tribal languages I have heard of are Maasai, Kichagga, and Kisambara, spoken by the Maasai, Chagga, and Wasambara tribes, respectively. I haven't heard enough of any of these to choose a favorite. As far as I understand, tribal languages are mostly used only by elderly people these days, although some younger generations carry on a knowledge of their tribe's language. It seemed like more people in Kenya keep up with tribal languages like Kikuyu or Luo, maybe as a point of pride since there has been some historical strife between the two groups.

What's the strangest animal you've ever seen?
Giraffes are really strange. Most people have probably seen one in a zoo, but I just can't get over it. If you drive by in a car, they'll usually stop what they're doing and blankly stare at you like you're crazy. Everything from the two furry horns, the long tongue, and funny chewing rhythm, to the spitting out of a little water from their long neck with every drink, to bracing their legs out wide to bend down in the first place...is just plain weird. I also saw a black mamba last week at the snake park. This is strange just for the fact that an animal can be that deadly and intimidating. We were close to huge lions on safari, but I wouldn't cross within a football field of a mamba to save my life. Nevertheless, the birds and bugs seem to be the most diverse here. There are huge, loud hornbills living in my neighborhood that would qualify as strange anywhere else. Overall though, I think these bugs take the cake.

Suspicious, or trying to look spooky on purpose?

What is greenest place you have been?
If you had asked me in December, I definitely would have said Eldoret, Kenya or rural Uganda. Of course, this was before I even knew what rain in Tanzania can achieve. Over a period of about two weeks, the almost-desert between here and the airport suddenly turned green. Overall then, I'd have to say the hash in Machame was the greenest, as you would expect dense rainforest to be at the start of the long rainy season. If you're asking in terms of environmental consideration, I've got nothing for you. Try Rwanda if you want that.

Even the Serengeti is green at the end of the long rains

What's the best summit you've been to? The most rewarding hash?
The most rewarding places I've been have also been the most surreal. The beach in Zanzibar, the summit of Mt. Meru, and the forest hash at Machame. Hopefully my pictures from Meru can give an idea of what life looks like above the clouds when there's ground beneath your feet. We lucked out with a clear view of everything above the cloud line, including Kilimanjaro, which works hard to convince you that you're no longer on Earth. The hash in Machame, along with being one of the most difficult, also caught me off-guard. On a normal Sunday afternoon that could have easily been rained out, I suddenly found myself on an afternoon jog along a narrow cut-out, in a jungle, a hundred feet above a river. This really reminded me why people go to such lengths to see something new, especially when there are snacks waiting at the end.

What's the most interesting meal you've had? Have you eaten things when you didn't know what they were?
It's not much of an exaggeration to say that Tanzanian cuisine isn't very creative. Samosas, rice, beans, veggies, and eggs are standard. Anyway, I did eat chicken gizzard once, but the accompanying sauce and option of pizza distracted me from the few piece of chewy stuff I managed to get down. The only real surprise menu item I've had here came during dinner at my neighbor/boss's house. After I was several pieces into the meat du jour, they told me it was from a camel that had been slaughtered by a friend. For those who are wondering, it was basically like soft beef, and I was happy to go back for seconds.

Do you have any good nicknames? (From Sharon maybe? Or others.)
Nothing really exciting...lots of kids yell out mzungu! (white person) but that's normal for foreigners. I think I was mistaken for Wayne Rooney at one point too.

Did you taste the spices of Zanzibar? Were they all they're cracked up to be?
My first trip to Zanzibar consisted of laying on the beach, so the closest I came to a spice tour was the fresh coconut for lunch. I've heard good things about them, but I think they may bring in more tourist money than actually exporting the spices at this point.

What's the Swahili word for Banana?
ndizi...plural mandizi...and banana means "to squeeze each other" or "mixed together"

Cashew nuts. Tell him to bring them back.
Not a question, so I won't answer. Plus they're somehow just as expensive here, and pretty dry.

What do the local Tanzanians think of the Duke doctors' presence? Helpful? Thankful? Don't get it?
Helpful, thankful, respectful, and attentive. But often to a fault. I can't speak much for the whole community, but those working at the hospital can easily fall into the trap of depending on the temporary foreign doctors. Most of these doctors, residents, nurses, midwives and others have learned Western medicine, but too often assume that the American doctor knows more. Sitting in our office, an average day yields at least a dozen knocks from people looking for one of the doctors in our group. On the flip side, sometimes the excruciatingly slow pace (and accompanying attitude) can frustrate the American doctors to the point where their work ethic tells them to just take care of the problems on their own. Just some thoughts from a minimally-involved de facto IT guy...

Do you ever feel like you're in danger? Either in the cities or in the wild?
Not so much. In any town, you try to avoid walking after dusk. Of course situations come up, but you're usually OK if you're in a group. Certain points on Mt. Meru and the Nile felt dangerous, but those were expected and supervised by guides. In the wild, on safari, I think the most danger I felt was when the tsetse flies were in full force at Tarangire.

Are you glad you have the technology you have there (laptops, night vision goggles, cell phone, gps, movies), or would you rather do a Survivorman and live in old African tribal villages without modern amenities?
At this point, I'm very glad to be where I am. Thinking about how hard it would be to live in any of the tiny villages I've seen, I would have had to come in with a very different mindset. I think I could do it, but probably not for nine whole months. Also, I assure you there are cell phones nearly everywhere there are people in Tanzania.

When can we expect your first visit after you get back?
ASAP, but probably after my trip to the beach. Karibuni!

After almost a year in Tanzania, what expectations do you have that the country in the years to come can cope in large measure on its own with its health problems?
We will see soon enough. According to my friend, countries are beginning to significantly decrease the general aid money flowing to Tanzania. I have heard rumors that this represents around 60% of the national budget, but the country officially reports it at 35% for 2008-09. Another shift has taken place specifically with regard to HIV and AIDS. The new Global Health Initiative in the US has declared that it will shift the focus from this notorious disease to cheaper and more preventable conditions like measles, stillbirth, and malaria. (Here's neighbor Diane's take on the situation.) These changes could represent an attitude from donor countries that, "We've supported you long enough without many real results, so now you need to figure some things out on your own." There are many books I haven't yet read about dependence on foreign aid, but I think this will be a major test for Tanzania. I've met some very skilled and bright young doctors here, but so much will be in the hands of the policymakers that it's hard to tell at this point.

In the same vein, does your opinion of the Tanzanians suggest that given the opportunity they will demonstrate capability and determination in dealing with such problems?
Disregarding the serious health care worker shortage throughout sub-Saharan Africa for a minute, I think the capability is definitely there. Determination, on the other hand, is a very Western idea. While I have seen American doctors on a mission, the normal Tanzanian attitude focuses on just performing your job...and if good things come of it, all the better. Many times Americans also cite "chai breaks" as an indicator of why progress can stall just as things are looking up. Pausing for snacks and tea in the late morning and/or early afternoon does cause many holdups around the hospital, but a chilled-out attitude against scheduling, organizing, and rushing to finish things contrasts many Tanzanians with their foreign colleagues. Nevertheless, I think there should be hope as long as the leaders in health care remain determined (which many are) and creative in their efforts.

From your grassroots stand point what do you think of the local government? Do you see any evidence on their part of emphasizing education and maintaining a decent infrastructure?
As far as education goes, the government flat-out does not put enough support into this. The CIA World Factbook reports that the country spent only 2.2% of its GDP on education in 1999, putting it in 162nd place in the world. I can't imagine that much has changed since then. Teachers barely receive a living wage, are stretched beyond their capabilities, and very often burn out. Many students aren't motivated to do whatever it takes to at least finish secondary (high) school. It's just not a great situation.
Government and big business here, I have learned, depend heavily on corruption. The local police being the primary culprit, both blatant and covert bribes unfortunately play a key role in how matters proceed (or stagnate) in this country. The power company probably fixes meters, cops without a car "suggest" a free ride to town, and millions of dollars in international aid most likely never makes it past the pockets of diplomats in Dar. Having witnessed the meticulously structured proceedings of a formal Tanzanian meeting, I can also imagine why the local government would be inefficient. The abundance of red tape explains in part why the only real examples of local infrastructure in Moshi are water/waste services, signs, government buildings, underfunded schools (which still require tuition and uniform fees), street sweepers, a relatively small social support program, a "fire truck" and (more recently) parking attendants. No public transportation, no street lights, no recycling, police mostly man roadside checks (not at night) to collect money, and I hesitate to include the library. Since so many people on this continent are barely scraping by to begin with, many places are left without a sufficient source for tax money. Even in a relatively modern, clean, and large city like Moshi, many services lag well behind the current standards in the US. It would be great to ease unemployment and poverty by creating needed municipal jobs, but local and federal governments are understandably handcuffed by their already meager budgets. The old chicken and egg really get in the way of a lot here.

Is there any interest in American sports among Tanzanian men?
Not really. They are interested in learning about ice hockey and baseball when I mention that I like them, but soccer is everything here. Across Africa, the British teams of Chelsea, Arsenal, and Manchester United boast a gigantic (and passionate) following. People crowd to the bars at match time to catch it on satellite TV. The other week I saw an NBA game on TV for the first time, but that was very strange. A famous Tanzanian named Hasheem Thabeet has been in and out of the NBA this season, but very few people take the time to follow the NBA. In terms of participation, a handful of young people do play basketball, tennis, volleyball, and ultimate frisbee here.

What is the general view of America among Tanzanians?
T: Where do you come from?
M: America.
T: Obama! Great guy.
I've had this conversation about 400 times by now, so that's a pretty common sentiment. I'm not sure exactly how much people know about our President, but they appreciate him nonetheless. Even before 2008, there was a strong bias in favor of America based on the vast amount of support PEPFAR has contributed to the fight against HIV/AIDS in Africa. President Bush (the younger) received a hero's welcome in Dar es Salaam a few years back, and our last two leaders have graced the threads of custom kangas. What the majority of people really think about America beyond that is hard to pinpoint. Many of those in the more elite middle class tend to follow the news, watch foreign movies, and have connections in the U.S., so it can often be seen as the standard in Western language and culture. This past weekend in Dar, one of my bajaj drivers struck up a broken English/Kiswahili conversation on Bush and Obama. In his opinion, Bush gave a lot of money and was not sexy; Obama is giving less money, but is sexy and talks a lot. I have a feeling this could be a slowly growing sentiment, but not to the point of causing any real concern.

Is there a national religion in Tanzania?
I asked a similar question to one of the guides on Mt. Meru, and he replied with a stern "No." There's a pretty even split (30% Muslim, 35% Christian, 35% indigenous) but Aggrey was quick to point out that Tanzania is a democratic country where church and state are separate matters. I believe this, but religion plays a huge unofficial role much like in America. The hospital here, for instance, is run mostly by the Good Samaritan Foundation. Just like at many other hospitals, schools, and NGOs, there are prayers at meetings and many faith-based social groups, for example. In Moshi, there are mosques, churches, a Hindu temple, and a Sikh temple (not to mention the mysterious "Rabbi Practical and Intensive Training"). I guess it's a source of pride that Tanzanians can say that there is no national religion, but rather a peaceful mix of many.

What are the favorite national dishes?
Ugali (stiff porridge, usually served with meat and sauce)
Pilau (spiced rice, usually served with meat and vegetables)
Chipsi mayai (an omelette with french fries cooked in)
Chai (tea, often spiced, with milk and sugar)
Rice & beans (steamed rice, brown/red beans)
Chapatti, Samosa, Fries, or basically anything fried

Dan showing off the typical lunch dishes at Jacob's Well

How serious is crime in Tanzania?
Fairly serious, but many Tanzanians still view America as a violent place in comparison. It's big news when a shooting happens in Moshi (rarely), but smaller things slip through the cracks often. This mostly consists of walkers being mugged at night for their money. As far as cities go, the story is somewhat different. Dar es Salaam is a large city, which sadly comes with rough areas and crime. Even Arusha has become notorious for the almost comical crime of rear-view mirror theft while drivers wait in traffic jams. One belief I've heard is that well-off Tanzanians are more often targeted for crimes than wealthy foreigners. The thought is that jealousy and fear of causing a major event drives this kind of class/race profiling. Skin color also plays a role in the string of albino murders over the past few years. People target this minority population in certain areas because of the high bounty their dismembered limbs fetch from some of the more radical traditional healers. Relatively speaking though, Tanzania lives up to its peaceful reputation. Only when you branch out to places like Kampala, Nairobi, or Johannesburg do you see persistent violent crime.

Is there much interest in American movies and music?
Yes and yes, but in a quirky way. Movies here are mostly distributed on single-disc collections of anywhere between 18 and 80 movies imported from Dubai and China. Most of these turn out to be B movies, but the ones that really stick are the action and horror movies. Popular TV shows include Prison Break, 24, and Lost. Rap music, as you may have noticed, has a huge influence on the messages seen throughout the dala dala lifestyle. Older songs, however, also find their way onto the radio. Red Red Wine (not American), What Is Love? (from Night at the Roxbury), and The Gambler by Kenny Rogers are some examples that keep coming up. As I have noticed many times here, nothing is predictable.

What sounds do you hear at night? Are there critters nearby?
It's very similar to what you'll hear in America if you live anywhere near the woods. There are a lot of locusts and grasshoppers here, so they make up most of the nightly chorus. Every once in a while you can hear a bushbaby, which actually sounds a lot like a cross between human baby and a whining cat. Thursday through Sunday night, there's always loud music coming from somewhere. We still haven't decided for sure whether it's a bar, the club in town, or the student hostels nearby. When you move towards the pre-dawn hours, a mix of birds and confused roosters will easily wake you up well before your alarm (for the first two months). Critters in my neighborhood include birds, free range chickens, dogs (stray and domesticated), hedgehogs, sometimes goats, and the occasional rumor of a snake.

How are you doing?
Just fine. Thanks for asking.

What have you learned?
Among other things, I learned that bread lasts a lot longer and doesn't get moldy if you keep it in the refrigerator.

What do kids my age (6) do for fun?
Kids here like to walk with friends (to and from school), play soccer, sing, and practice their English when they see people like me.

What's the coolest animal you have seen there?
The cheetahs and leopards in the Serengeti were really cool. The patterns on their fur were amazing to see in person.

What games to the kids my age (6) play?
I have seen kids playing soccer, hopscotch, stick-and-hoop, and tag. Most people don't have video games or board games, so kids spend a lot of time exploring outside.

What types of Americanized things have you seen there? Tv shows etc?
I mentioned some already, but you also see pro wrestling all over the place. A few of the more privileged get to watch on TV (I watched in a hotel last week), but mostly you just see t-shirts and stickers that come in bubble gum wrappers. I also think it's pretty weird to see dollars used so often here. Most things touristy and/or expensive (flying, mountains, hotels, rent) require US dollars. A post last month talked all about Coca-Cola, but Corn Flakes are also surprisingly ubiquitous. You'll find Obama merchandise and artwork anywhere from the bus station to the rural "Obama Salon." My favorite is a mural on the outskirts of Arusha depicting the president, minus the blazer, sleeves rolled up, rushing into action. Movie theaters and shopping malls are (thankfully) reserved for the bigger cities, so I've had very little experience with those.

Are there any particular questions that the people there like to ask you about America?
One teenager asked me if there's grass on the ground in America. People generally ask things like where in the country I'm from (North Carolina? OK...) or how many brothers and sisters I have.

Is that wonderful picture of Kili on your latest blog taken from your back yard?
No, this was taken from the road on my way to work. It's looking over some of the fields that are owned by the hospital.

Does the average Tanzanian know much about current events in the world? If yes, how do they learn about it?
There are many national/international newspapers available here in both Swahili and English. People also enjoy watching news shows on television when they have a chance. Again, the more privileged middle class has an advantage here because they can afford papers, TV, and sometimes the internet. Aggrey, the guide on Mt. Meru, was extremely knowledgeable and up-to-date on world events. I suspect that Mary, the banana lady on the street in town, would not know nearly as much. I could definitely be (and hopefully am) wrong in this assumption.

How involved are Tanzanians in national politics?
This is a good question that I can't really give a good answer for. I do know that things are expected to become somewhat heated (at least in Zanzibar) around this fall's presidential elections. Most Tanzanians keep up with politics in the Swahili-language newspapers and local party meetings, so I unfortunately am not too in tune with this.

Is it safe to travel out doors at night in Moshi with all of the wild animals there, or is it just dangerous outside of the town?
In terms of animals, I'm probably more in danger of being scratched to death by one of the jumpy neighborhood dogs than anything else. There are some smaller wild creatures around, but they're normally either harmless or hiding. The only stories I've heard of wild animals being a nuisance in Tanzania have to do with elephants damaging property and hyenas/wild dogs going after livestock (both nowhere near here). The closest I could expect to see a safari-type animal (not counting monkeys) would probably be about an hour west of where I live.

NOT taken in my backyard

Where does your water supply come from? Must you boil it before using it? Can you only drink bottled water?
The water that flows from Mount Kilimanjaro is actually very clean. It comes from the glacier, precipitation, and mountain springs. This said, I still boil tap water just in case. Many people here just drink unboiled tap water without any serious problems. I know a few super-careful people who only drink bottled water, but that would cost way too much for me. There are definitely water quality/supply problems elsewhere in the country, but we're fortunate in this region.

Just how popular IS Coca Cola in Tanzania???
Popular enough for me to avoid it for a while back in the States, but not quite popular enough for waiters/waitresses to realize why people ask for "a Coke." Overall, I think the branding is probably more popular than the drink itself.

How far does the average Tanzanian go in school? Is college available only to wealthy Tanzanians?
Again, it all depends on money. From what I've heard, I think the typical public school fees are something like $60 per month. This is borderline exorbitant for here, so many poorer children drop out towards the end of primary school. College is certainly more of an ideal and possibility for the middle class. These are the people who can afford transportation between home and school, who have a bank account to handle a student loan, and don't have to work extensively outside of their studies. In my opinion, the two major indicators that separate the middle class from the poorer section of the population are a college degree and a car.

What do Tanzanians think of Americans?
They ask too many questions. Seriously though, I've heard nothing bad said about America (or almost any other country...sorry Somalia) since coming here. There are many Americans here either spending all their money as tourists or working hard with hospitals/NGOs, so there isn't much to complain about.

Other than AIDS and malaria, what are common infectious diseases in Tanzania?
Tuberculosis (closely-tied with AIDS)
Schistosomiasis (water-borne parasite, often from swimming in water with snails)
Pneumonia (particularly in young children)
Diarrheal diseases (related to water quality issues)
Rabies (many people are legitimately afraid of dogs, probably because they have heard stories)
Hepatitis A (contaminated food/water)
Typhoid fever (contaminated food/water)

How do you get health help in Tanzania?
Me personally? I luckily live in a neighborhood with dozens of doctors. The gynecologist across the street has threatened treatment on several occasions, but his fully stocked pharmacy closet allows me to look past that. Knock on wood, I haven't had many problems so far.
For typical Tanzanians, you have to work your way through a system. There are dispensaries and health centers that serve folks in the smaller villages. If the problem can't be solved there, they are sent to the nearest hospital. In most cases this is a small district hospital facility with limited resources, so the patient is sent to a larger referral hospital like KCMC. If treatment on the level of brain surgery or chemotherapy is required, they are sent to one of the two major hospitals in Dar es Salaam. Sounds easy, right? Well money factors into all of this transportation and opening files and picking up medicine and spending nights waiting for procedures. In fact, most of the system operates on a fee-for-service model. This means that surgery or x-rays or medication don't become a reality until the patient can round up the fees to pay. I also learned that, unlike in prison, admitted patients receive only one small meal per day (porridge) unless friends or relatives can bring more food.

Have you been able to sustain your crouton heavy diet in Tanzania?
Unfortunately, "salad" means something completely different to Tanzanians. It's usually some combination of raw carrot slices, cucumbers, carrots, and sometimes cabbage. You usually get it as more of a garnish or cole slaw-esque side with a meal, so dressing and croutons don't even enter the equation. I've survived so far without them.

Regarding Sharon: What is her school like? When do kids start learning English? Does she go to the international school or public school?
I honestly don't know which school she goes to, but it's most likely a public primary school. The international school costs about as much as private schools in the US and Europe, and is thus mostly limited to those wealthy enough to pay or lucky enough to receive a scholarship (which I ran for in the Kilimanjaro 5k). I have heard that kids used to learn English starting with first grade, but that it recently changed to third grade. I haven't been inside too many schools, but they tend to have 3-5 classrooms and outer walls painted with maps, diagrams of the solar system, or body parts labeled in Kiswahili. Inside are basic schoolrooms with a blackboard and, thankfully, some books.

And, a question the several people in Durham are asking, have you seen any T shirts that say, "University of North Carolina NIT champions"? You know, the shirts that never made it to the streets here.
I'm giving it a few more months.

**Thanks to Mom, Kristin, Ryan, Ed, George, Lauren, Christine, Casey, Alli, Mrs. P., and Eve for all the questions.

My first wild crocodile sighting (Serengeti)

This month's soundtrack:
Interpol -- NARC
Brand New -- Be Gone
Eddie Vedder -- Tuolumne
Bob Marley and The Wailers -- One Love / Waiting in Vain
Jack Johnson -- Times Like These
U2 -- In God's Country
The Decemberists -- The Crane Wife 1 & 2 / Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect
Paul Simon -- Under African Skies / The Obvious Child
The Fugees -- Ready or Not
The Velvet Underground -- Sweet Jane
Fatboy Slim -- You're Not from Brighton
Blink-182 -- The Girl Next Door / M & Ms
System of a Down -- Deer Dance
The Walkmen -- Canadian Girl
Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble -- Texas Flood
The White Stripes -- Apple Blossom
Buddy Holly -- Not Fade Away
James Brown -- Night Train
Breakwater -- Release the Beast

Who released the beast?

Dala dala themes (Courtesy of Arusha trip):
Hollywood City
Reliable
More money more problem
Home Boy
Black Rain
Baby Boy
If Only
Nellyville
Tension X
No Chance
Super Sports
Solidarity
The Long War
Master P
Passion
Led Zepperlin
Top Jesus
The Blues
Prison Break
X-Treme
Cupcake
No time 2 weast
Peace and Love
Red Sea
Terror Squad
Experience
Time Up
Lloyd Banks
King
Passion for Life
Mahir
Rick Ross Boss
Ruff Ryders
Vanilla
Penny Lane
Legalize
Whatever is
The Club Room
Camp Safaris
Enola Gay
Fantastic
Live in Direct
Dolphin
Mowing
Mercy and Justice
Urban
L
Kingfisher
M
Redemption
Laxman
Safari Excellent
Super People
Blue Eagle
Three 6 Mafia
Piano
Pick Up
Hot Stepper
Air Force
One Mercy
Shalom Israel
Jesus Power
Ninja Beat
Penal Code
Breaking News
Better on the other side
Stable Man
Class Experience
Man Still Man
Culture
Senior Haulage
Back Town
Cash Money
Xtreme Sound
Soldier Boyz
Sharon Trans
Toy
Hi-Style
Hard Work
Systematic
Top Class
Amicable

Our personal dala dala for safari

Additional team attire spotted:
Anaheim Ducks
Houston Texans
Montreal Expos
Vancouver Canucks
Philadelphia 76ers
Calgary Flames

A safari staple...but I'm still waiting on that championship

Next time:
Mount Kilimanjaro...send all the spare positive mojo you may have

FAQ

2010-04-24T17:55:00.009-04:00

So most times when I post on here it starts out with something like, "Not much has happened since last time," before I end up rambling about a dozen different things. This time, there really hasn't been much going on. As a result, I've decided to turn the tables on you, the reader. I've spent hours at my computer working on these ramblings, so I'm just asking you to spend a minute posting a question (or several) about living in Tanzania. When I was home for Christmas, it seemed like some friends didn't even have enough time to ask all that was on their mind. For those of you, and everyone else, here's your opportunity. If you're reading this, whether you know me or not, ask a question. Don't be shy, don't worry about offending...even email me if you don't know how to comment here or just don't want your name to be posted. Ideally, if I get enough questions, I'll include some attempts at answers in my next post (along with some safari stories).

Nothing new. I still live here.

So post away. I mostly thought of this because I have realized how often things here have differed from my expectations. Hopefully hearing straight from the visiting horse's mouth can give people a better idea of what it's like...at least compared to the Discovery Channel, the news, and old British anthropological papers.

Dear Paullins, Thanks for Bananagrams. Sincerely, me

That said, I do have to share one thing that happened this week. My housekeeper (or house mama) Beatrice brought along her 7 year old daugher Sharon. It's hard to sum up Sharon in a nutshell, but I have to say she is one of the most curious people I know. In just a few hours, she watched Madagascar 2, played board games, threw around a mini football, tried on night-vision goggles, read a book about soccer, tried m&ms for the first time, learned about iPods, took some digital pictures, and learned how to type. Her English was very impressive, and she was thrilled to have an opportunity to practice it. It was also fun to explain to her how she could type and send messages to Malavika instantly in the office, as well as to see her reaction after doing it on her own. I think the most uttered phrase of the day was, "I need to show my mother." She borrowed the board games to show her brothers at home, and I came out of it with one of those welcome days I won't forget for a while.

Priceless

This week's soundtrack:
Dave Matthews Band -- Stay or Leave
Modest Mouse -- People as Places as People
The Beatles -- I Want You (She's So Heavy)
The Sex Pistols -- God Save the Queen
Tapes 'n Tapes -- Just Drums
Duran Duran -- Hungry Like the Wolf
U2 -- Stay (Faraway, So Close)
Daft Punk -- Robot Rock
Arcade Fire -- I'm Sleeping in a Submarine
The Strokes -- The Modern Age
The Clash -- Spanish Bombs

Where long days at work go to die

Sorry, no new dala dalas or jerseys.

Safari photography practice: "Neighborhood Hedgehog"

Next time:
Safari wrapup (Tarangire, Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater)

I Climbed a Mountain (PS: I Loathe the Rains)

2010-03-28T07:17:00.044-04:00

Everything in Moshi has been business as usual...which of course is relatively unusual. The rainy season has officially started, which basically means we all have to find a way to deal with the mud for the next month or two. Rainy season isn't necessarily as you'd imagine a full monsoon...instead it just predictably rains and storms for 1-6 hours just about every evening between 4pm and 8am. The mud here is that perfect blend of slippery and sticky, so the half-dirt walk to and from work makes for some frustrating and inevitable shoe scraping later on. Anyway, before I get to the two big trips I've taken since last time, there are a few observations I've been meaning to share.

A typical morning walk to work.*

*Not really

One of the first things I noticed after arriving in August was the omnipresent goliath that is the Coca-Cola Company. I had heard a lot about this before my trip, especially because my friend Jason has made multiple trips to Guatemala to investigate the impact of such companies in developing settings. If you remember from my very first post, I was struck early on by how about 90% of the signage in Moshi (everything from bars to schools and corner stores) was sponsored by Coke. Apparently, the deal is that the company will give you a sign for your shop as long as you agree to sell Coke products. This doesn't really explain how they end up in front of schools, or that a model will forever be enjoying a cold beverage above the shop's name, but it seems to be a system that has worked out for both sides. The company's influence doesn't stop there. On top of the fact that many Tanzanians will choose a Coke or Red Bull over water if they can afford it. Even the bottled water company is owned by the Coca-Cola Company, and right on the bottle it states plainly that "Kilimanjaro is a registered trademark of the Coca-Cola Company." Here are the other places I have noticed this branding blitzkrieg in East Africa:
- Tablecloths
- Chairs
- Wall clocks
- Clock towers
- Buses
- Billboards (Official Sponsor of 2010 World Cup)
- Buckets
- Highway mile markers
- Roundabout decorations
- Menu boards in restaurants
- Hats
- Shirts
- Calendars
- Giant inexplicable bottles
- Kiosks (in the shape of giant bottles)
- Playing cards
- Hand-washing basins

It must have some use, right?

As diabetes, heart disease, and other chronic conditions continue to emerge in countries like Tanzania, one has to wonder if this influx of sponsorship money will eventually end up a one-sided victory. I've also noticed that Coke delivery trucks easily cover more ground in a more organized fashion than the postal service or Ministry of Health and Social Welfare. This could already be informally in practice, but why not use the trucks to deliver medical supplies and educational materials to the rural dispensaries they no doubt pass on their way to virtually every Mom and Pop store in the country? That way, at least some kind of positive visible contribution could be made where millions of people are becoming more vulnerable to the problems that have been fattening people in the West for decades now.

Business at Linda Kiosk is booming

All rants aside, I've also noticed that Tanzania is chronically underrepresented at the Olympics. Seeing the head of the Tanzanian Olympic Committee at the marathon last month inspired me to think beyond the traditional running prowess displayed at the Games. I'd like to propose that the IOC introduce a few new sports to open up opportunities for athletes from this great country:

Training hard for 2012

1) Throwing trash out of buses
While there are many other gripes I have with bus transportation in this country, one of the most consistent and predictable aspects of riding on them is that people chuck their trash out the window. Stopped or at top speed, banana peel or water bottle...the easiest solution is to just send it out to the side of the road and move on. The real strategy comes in reaching over a sleeping neighbor, forcing open a stuck window, actually getting all the trash off the bus, and not hitting any pedestrians in the process.
2) Goat racing
The Maasai would have a distinct advantage here, but herding goats is almost like a national pastime. Although they may seem stupid, goats are much more responsive than cows when it comes to listening to directions when avoiding cars. The Olympics would be the culmination of 4 years of the annual goat races held for charity in Dar Es Salaam, which I will hopefully attend next month.
3) Defensive walking
This seems to follow me wherever I go, but folks here seem to be great at cutting me off and walking excruciatingly slowly in front of me. The average walking pace in this country is barely faster than your typical zombie, and I tend to get caught behind a road block when walking on a narrow sidewalk or between two hedges. The Tanzanian tradition of holding hands while walking and talking would give the athletes an added advantage in the pairs competition.
4) Casual mountain climbing
Having been on a handful of hikes so far, I've definitely noticed that foreigners tend to be much less at home on hills. Whether it's loose dirt, mud, rocks, or an ancient bridge, many Tanzanians have no trouble keeping pace while others stumble or tread lightly. Variants could include walking backwards down hills, talking casually while scaling a hill without using any hands, or hiking in dress shoes.
5) Talking softly
This is a talent that may be more suitable for a spelling bee-type format, but that's not to say it requires hard work and determination. While many Tanzanian people speak at or above normal volumes in typical conversations, this becomes barely audible in the classroom setting. Whether it's because of anxiety about speaking English or just plain shyness, students 3 or 30 feet away from an instructor will respond to a question in a voice that must hit the same tones as a dog whistle. Sophisticated equipment would be required to decide who can answer a question verbally while using the fewest decibels.
6) Extreme banana transport
Every day, without fail, a constant stream of ladies walks down the hill from the not-so-nearby mountain village of Kibosho to sell their bananas in town. I haven't tried it, but I'd imagine balancing 50 pounds of bananas on one's head for about 5 miles is slightly challenging. Think World's Strongest Man without the sweat or steroids. Add in skateboards and you have yourself an X-Games event as well.

Sebastian, moments after opening Pandora's Box

For my own personal casual mountain climbing training, I've taken a few weekend trips to walk up and down things. First, I decided at the last minute to go on a predominantly German trip to Lushoto, a town in the Western Usambara Mountains. I almost immediately regretted this decision when our bus hit the customary snags associated with any kind of travel in Tanzania. First, the bus was an hour and a half late. Then, we found out it was outrageously overbooked. Then, the meanest policewoman in the country found out that it was outrageously overbooked and that everyone standing in the aisles was breaking the law. Then the operators wouldn't give any money back to those who were kicked off. Then a seat "magically" appeared. Then we rode 300 feet to the police station to "straighten everything out." Then on the way out of town we picked up the group that had previously been kicked off the bus. A series of dozens of police checkpoints, bribes, and inexplicable random stops turned our 5 hour trip into an 8-plus hour headache.

The ride that would have probably gotten us there faster

Anyway, we made it to Lushoto in one piece to find that it's actually a beautiful place. There's no wonder it became the German summer headquarters during colonial times -- it's pretty much an alpine getaway in rural Tanzania. With only one and a half days to spend there, our original plans included one and a half days of hiking. Our late afternoon arrival gave us just enough time to get lost on our way, then eventually make it to Irente Viewpoint.

And these aren't even the best views in this mountain range

This windy outcropping gave us a sweeping view of the flat savannah a thousand feet below, along with the surrounding hills. Arriving with time to spare, we placed our dinner orders at the conveniently located fancy hotel/restaurant before heading out to the point to enjoy the sunset.

Just outside the gate where a woman was looking to collect entry fees to the real viewpoint

Sunday would be entirely dedicated to a longer hike, complete with a guide. This time we decided to take a 4-5 hour hike to the nearby Magamba Rainforest and back. The trip was full of mangoes, kids way too excited to see white people, and some cool information on the local flora. Yamas, our guide (and Nic Riley's doppelgänger), worked for an organization called Friends of Lushoto. This is a group that works in the business of eco-tourism for the wide benefit of the local community. A portion of our fees went to support a dairy co-op, some plant nurseries, and the preservation of forests, among other things. While we didn't get to see any monkeys in the forest, we did learn a lot about traditional herbal medicines, banana farming, and Yamas's real opinion of the street merchants. Other highlights from this trip included some epic haggling battles for fruit and kangas, TV in the hotel room, and numerous lighthearted misunderstandings between us and the hostess about what constitutes cold water.

Big trees, no monkeys

Speaking of cold, I also decided to climb a 15,000 foot mountain. No, not that one...Mount Meru. No, not that Meru, this one. According to hearsay, I knew going in that Mount Meru is a very difficult climb often used to train and acclimate for Kili. I had heard that it is more technical, whereas Kili is more of a never-ending hike. A bunch of us decided to find out for ourselves, so Malavika, six friends from Dar, and I put our fates in the hands of a man named Aggrey and set out for a three day climb. Aggrey met us the night before our departure in town to sort out the details (what size shoe would people need, how much water should we take along, where should we meet) and did an impressive job running around at the last minute to smooth things over. Aggrey had also been communicating with his buddies in Arusha about the weather patterns. In the back of our minds for two weeks had been the fact that the rainy season was in full swing. The off-again, on-again heavy downpours could make the trip miserable, or even threaten to keep us from the summit if icy conditions prevailed.

Everest (yes, that's his real name) leading us for the first leg

The first morning was a whirlwind. A very boring whirlwind. We waited for at least an hour at the main gate to get our papers and payment sorted out before heading to the gate that would serve as our starting point. Then, some slow gathering of additional guides and porters preceded the traditional laying out of old used clothing and equipment for us to borrow. Equipped with full winter gear and a pair of walking sticks, I was ready to go. The first hike turned out to be pleasant. We first walked through a huge field with giraffes and buffalo in the distance to our left, our ranger guide Cha Cha leading the way with a rifle over his shoulder. He was quick to point out that this is only for scaring a charging buffalo or elephant, as he turned out to be one of those park workers who is totally enthused by animals. The trail eventually took us on the first ascent up some relatively gradual hills, and we gained about 1,000 meters in three and a half hours. Just before we reached the first hut, however, the weather forced us to break out the rain gear. Regardless of how well we covered up, all of us ended up soaked when we reached camp (Miriakamba Hut) a half hour later. It was nice consolation, however, to see that we'd be sleeping in rooms with decent bunk beds and eating dinner in a lodge with a view.

The peak peeking out for a minute over the first hut

Day two was also not so bad in terms of the hike itself. There were steps constructed on the switchbacks for the first kilometer or two, and it only drizzled off and on throughout the day. This section was really spooky visually, as we were in a dense forest with thick fog and moss hanging off most of the trees. After another kilometer in elevation gained, we dropped off our gear at the slightly less luxurious Saddle Hut and relaxed for one of the many chai (tea) breaks. Recharged, we set off to the nearby Little Meru peak for an extra afternoon stroll. The remaining group of six conquered it with little problem, except some apprehension that would cause the next day's summit group to dwindle to four.

Lord of the Rings, anyone?

Going into the final day, we all knew it would be slightly different from the previous two. Starting with a midnight wake-up call, we suited up for cold weather and escaped just after a heavy downpour. Even though it was tough to see beyond the boots of the person in front of you through the dark and mist, we followed our guides gradually uphill for about an hour and reached Rhino Point. This is usually a viewpoint during the day, but at 2am it only serves as one of the few stopping points for rest and water. It wasn't freezing quite yet, but we still weren't supposed to stop for too long because it would only make us cold.

About when we started to suspect we were on a giant mountain treadmill, or that it was actually growing by the minute

The next four and a half hours were a dark, cold, dizzy blur. We had to shuffle sideways around a few rough rockfaces, climb a steep trail of loose volcanic ash, and traverse the numerous crags on the dragon's tail ridge leading to the summit. Just as we thought we were on the final approach, we'd turn a corner to see another formation to go over or around. The last 200 meters of the climb, it was pretty clear that everyone was struggling. The guides telling me I was "strong like a buffalo" helped mentally, but not physically. It wasn't entirely a headache, but at the same time it wasn't the typical spinning dizziness. Whatever the combination was, it made me thankful that we took more frequent breaks as everyone crawled up the rough side of the peak without complaint. The Tanzanian flag at the summit wasn't waving in the breeze -- instead the painted metal sheet was frozen still just like the flag on the moon. At the top, we of course took the obligatory sunrise over Kili pictures (thanks to the clear weather) before signing one of the trip's numerous record books and beginning the tricky climb down.

The weather and sun killed my camera at the summit, but this one turned out OK.

None of this was the climbing that involves helmets and ropes and carabiners, but it was probably about as close as you can get in some places. On the way back, we had a chance to really take in all the views we had missed on the way up. We saw the huge ridge we had climbed, the amazing ash cone in the mountain's inner crater, the forests below, Little Meru and Kili in the distance, and a lot of the steep and menacing drop-offs we were glad we hadn't noticed before. Aside from some knee and foot pains associated with rental boots a size too small, the descent went smoothly. We collected our things from Saddle Hut and said goodbye to the peak we had somehow "killed," with the help of Aggrey, Cha Cha, Francis, and Everest. If Meru really is a piece of chocolate cheesecake, as Cha Cha wanted us to believe, I have never worked so hard for a dessert in my life.

The walking sticks came in handy, after all.

That's enough mountain talk for now. The evening we returned to Moshi, Duke was to play in the national championship game. And by "evening" I mean 4:30 in the morning. Even though I was sleep deprived and sore, I was determined to find a way to watch the game. Here was the rundown of the plans heading into the weekend:
A) Go to Berny's house to watch on satellite TV (he's not a basketball fan, but he stayed up for the Baylor game)
B) Ask one of several others with TV to record it so I could watch it at a convenient time
C) Buy internet credit and watch online as I did with olympic hockey
D) Crash at Donato's house and wake up to watch

As it turned out, people were out of town (business and pleasure), the Vodacom shop was closed Friday and Monday for Easter, recording proved to be too much of a challenge, the specific cable package didn't carry the right channel, and the power company happened to schedule a major repair-related outage for the afternoon when the game would be re-broadcast. Long story short, I didn't get to watch the classic game...but I am hopeful that it will happen at some point, at least after I'm back in the US. This is just further evidence that Murphy's Law originated in Tanzania and should instead be called Kessy's Law.

As in, "Despite Kessy's Law, we made it to the top of the mountain."

Well, that's enough for now. Enjoy some completely unrelated graphs and figures I've come across on other blogs recently, along with the routine music, dala dala, and team updates...

What can I say? That show The Big Bang Theory struck a chord.

This week's soundtrack:
Nada Surf -- Fruit Fly
Coldplay -- Cemeteries of London
The Beatles -- Let It Be
Beck -- Where It's At
Flogging Molly -- Whistles the Wind
David Bowie -- Rebel Rebel
Bright Eyes -- We Are Nowhere and It's Now
Tapes 'n Tapes -- Insistor
Modest Mouse -- Satellite Skin
AC/DC -- Girl's Got Rhythm
Eagles of Death Metal -- Speaking in Tongues
Old Crow Medicine Show -- Wagon Wheel
The White Stripes -- Little Cream Soda
Spoon -- Me and the Bean
Brand New -- Guernica
The Strokes -- What Ever Happened
Modest Mouse -- Diggin' Holes in Water
Pet Shop Boys -- West End Girls
The Strange Boys -- Be Brave
Vadoinmessico -- In Spain
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros -- Home
Ryan Adams -- To Be Young
Eric Clapton -- After Midnight
Sly and the Family Stone -- I Want to Take You Higher
David Bowie -- Life on Mars

Think about this for at least five minutes. It doesn't make sense.

Dala dala themes:
Sun City Express
Osaka Executive
Shabco Express
Maximum Respect
3K Investment
Picnic Class
Burning Spear

Additional team attire spotted:
Seattle Sonics
Los Angeles Kings
Washington Redskins

Crazy Canadians...

Next time:
Avoiding mud, a hopefully dry safari, wrapping up at work, goat races, etc.

A map of some of the locations of people who have visited this blog...including Mali, China, Singapore, Iran, Australia, Norway, and Minnesota

PS: At no extra charge, you can see the full albums from Lushoto and Mt. Meru by clicking on the bold links provided in those paragraphs.

Pole Sana

2010-03-07T09:54:00.025-05:00

One of the most interesting parts of the language here, Kiswahili, is that passing someone on the street warrants more than just a “Hi” or “How’s it going?” Instead, sympathy tends to find its way into even the most casual interaction. “Pole” (pronounced POH-lay) in its simplest form means “sorry.” In hearing it used at least a dozen times a day, however, I have learned that it implies much more. If you ask me, a more accurate translation would come out to something more like “that’s too bad about you and the circumstances in which you have found yourself” or “I feel for you.” While standing in a line or trying to drive in this country may not give the sense that the Golden Rule is in effect, you can tell that people are still thinking of others. The word can be said to someone who is sick, carrying a heavy load of bananas, busy at work, stuck at the airport, or grieving. I have even heard it many times when I couldn’t even figure out why I was the recipient of one. I’ve never looked into the etymology of the word “sorry,” but I’m pretty sure I’ll find myself substituting “pole” even after I’m back home.

Running a marathon: definitely pole worthy

Having said all that, pole sana (very sorry) to those of you who have been waiting since December for an update on things. There haven’t been any huge trips to write about in 2010 so far, but at the same time I could never find the time to sit down and post something so I guess there’s no excuse. There’s been a lot of the same-old same-old in terms of new friends coming and going, soccer in the afternoons, slow internet, and hot weather. I’ll try to post a little here on the trips I’ve made within the country in the past month and a half, as well as what it’s like to start thinking about leaving somewhat soon and finding something else to keep me occupied.

Road improvements aren't exactly a top priority, even if they temporarily block half of the road.

My trip back to Tanzania was once again mostly uneventful. It was exciting for me to cut out one of the flights by leaving from Washington with Jeff and his family. My parents had a nice, if brief, chance to meet them at the airport before the five of us started our journey back to the post-holiday Moshi diet. I almost even had a clear shot through customs once again at the Kilimanjaro airport, but the agent hesitated for a moment when going through one of my two huge bags. It just so happened that this was the one that was half-filled with donated sweaters, socks, and shoes…mostly for women at a local HIV/AIDS support organization called KIWAKKUKI. Oh, and a small pink sweater happened to be what I had packed last, right on top of the bag he had open. Despite all this, I replied to his question, “Are all of these items strictly for personal use?” with a confident “Yes,” and moved on. Not much had changed in Moshi. Yes, one of the road construction projects on the way back from the airport was finished, but the month-old piles of rocks on the road outside our neighborhood had obviously had a relaxing holiday.

Sunset at the Chala campsite.

Within a week of coming back, I was already off on a two-day camping hash, this time at a place called Lake Chala. About an hour and a half from Moshi on the Kenyan border, this is one of those lakes that don’t necessarily show up on every map. It’s no Victoria, and the organized tourism industry doesn’t have it on the radar, so who needs to know where it is? Add to that the fact that my informal census counted a total of about five people living within a few miles of the lake, and this was a nice shift from the crowded metro system I had dealt with a week earlier in DC. For those of your trying to picture this place, it’s basically a lake in a crater in a savannah with some mountains in the distance. Thanks to a brand new campsite with showers and toilets, this was a nice place to hold a Saturday afternoon hash before camping out with about 50 others. I walked this hash, which was pretty average (which is a good thing) until the very end, where we had to scale about 500 steep feet of loose gravel. Unbeknownst to us, the view at the top would be a panorama of the lake from the rim of the giant crater. This was a nice reward for a long hike, even if the path along the top of this ridge was full of the meanest thorned plants I have ever encountered. They seemed harmless at first sight, but I came home with a few holes in my shirt and some scratched up extremities.

The view after our climb

We broke out into small groups for dinner, which basically consisted of fancy snacks that I hadn’t even come close to in Moshi. That night I also learned a lesson that a yoga mat that you found in your closet does not effectively double as a sleeping mat. Needless to say, the sleepless night had me ready to go back to the house. Not before a brisk morning hike, though…Suzanne, Terrie, Nikoly, Elizabeth, and I decided to trek down to the edge of the lake, since we had only been able to look from a distance. While it turned out to be more of a technical descent than anything else, it was well worth it to see the clear water and rocky shore. There were legends floating around that crocodiles still live in this lake, but if this is true it looks like they would have a tough time trying to climb around on the land with their short legs. I may have lost some sleep and hydration over the weekend, but it was nice to hang out at an inland oasis for a few days.

Crocs? Psh.

The next weekend, I participated in my first trip with the Kilimanjaro Mountain Club to the Rau Forest. This all may sound impressive, but in all honesty it was slightly more exciting than walking slowly through Duke Forest with a huge crowd. Yes, we saw monkeys. Yes, we saw a gigantic tree. Yes, the rice fields we saw were among the greenest things my eyes have ever seen. Yes, there were a few river (creek) crossings. But seriously, other than that it was all pretty ho-hum. The mvule tree, according to our guide, is the tallest on the continent, but I remain skeptical about that. OK, I’ll admit it was cool, but maybe when you all come to visit we can find something slightly cooler.

A tribute to the effective irrigation system in Lower Moshi

Occupying yet another Sunday was my sixth hash, this time down the road and up the mountain a bit in Machame. I decided at the last minute to run this one…good decision for me, bad decision for anyone who wants to see pictures of it. This was definitely the most picturesque of all the hashes I’ve done so far (go figure), as well as one of the most difficult. We did a lot of climbing and a lot of careful jogging along ridges with steep drop-offs to one side, and managed to return to the cars missing only about 670 calories apiece. The trail ultimately had us scale the east side of a valley, go for a while (and take in the sights), descend to cross a river, climb up the other side, and run all the way back to the start. This turned out to be a great hash, especially considering our concerns that it would be rained out as we had driven though several downpours to get there. Add in the full spread of snacks and drinks Bob set up for us at the end, and I can’t think of many cooler ways to spend a Sunday afternoon. Hopefully this link to my GPS map of the route works for everyone: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/25557565

At least you can see how much more jungle-esque it looks than Moshi

Making up for the time I’ve been spending indoors at work lately, I went on another camping trip the following weekend. This time was slightly less formal, as I’d be going with my British friend Rick to a campsite a few hours west of here in a place called Monduli. All I knew going into this was that we’d be doing some hiking with friends, and that we’d be stopping to pick up food in Arusha on the way. This turned out to be a nice weekend, as we stayed at a pretty rustic campground on top of a hill and basically hiked/hung out with some local Maasai guys. A fence of thorns surrounded the area, I’m assuming to keep out certain animals, but we didn’t see anything beyond baboons in the two days. We did, however see evidence (if you know what I mean) of giraffes, hyena, badgers, buffalo, and domesticated cows. On the short Saturday hike our guide gave us a chance to see a secluded area with a special meaning for his tribe. Apparently, after a Maasai man in this area is, ahem, circumcised, he must spend 20 days alone in a tiny hut in this ravine, eating nothing but meat. Just as we were all amazed hearing about what must be an ancient custom, the older guide started to pose under a rock formation and request that we take his picture. At the end of the hike, our Italian friend Freddy met up with us and broke out his new giant stunt kite. We all (including Manny, one of the Maasai) took turns until sundown trying to handle the thing, which is apparently powerful enough to take a small person for a ride under the right conditions.

Ready for the cover of Maasai Magazine

The Maasai guys were also fascinated by my GPS watch and iPod, which I let them borrow for a while around the campfire after dinner. Before I learned that they were really into The Clash, Michael Jackson, and Buddy Holly, the big group had an ongoing feast with burgers, cheese, sausage…and a bag of lasagna. I have to also point out that about half of the group was Italian, and that nobody had ever heard of dehydrated camping food before. Suffice to say, I took some heat for the just-add-boiling-water meal. Don’t worry though – they do still talk to me, and it turned out to be a relatively good meal. Sunday we kind of did the equivalent of the “spin the globe” game, choosing to scale the line of mountains to the east without any idea of what that would involve. It turned out to be an exhausting 17-kilometer (10.5 mile) trek of ups and downs that would cover a net elevation gain of about 2,300 feet. We were treated to some great views along the way, including one from a remote secondary school in a location that would make Greg Mortenson proud (plug: read Stones into Schools). We grabbed a quick lunch and turned around just short of the very top, since the guide was a little wary that there would be buffalo around the corner. A few hours and a lot of strange clingy plants later, we made it back to the cars for the ride back to Moshi. Here’s another GPS map for the geeks like me: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/25557578

Hard work is typically rewarded with good views.

The most recent hash took place just down the road from where I live in Shanty Town, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was any less difficult or scenic. We could tell Jan got pretty excited in setting this one, as it ended up being about 10 km (as opposed to the average of about 6-8 km) of river crossings and confusing shifts in direction. Nonetheless, it was a nice run that included the Bridge of Doom, as pictured in the first post back in September. Jan also had parties (yes, plural) at his place that weekend, where I got to catch up with some people and meet some new ones. Among the new friends was Donato, an Italian police officer currently working at the local immigration academy for the UN. That would probably be me last guess, however, since he basically acts like he’s 20 (in a good way). Anyway, we were both planning on running the 5k at the Kilimanjaro Marathon the following weekend, so we decided to train together after work. Of course, this training regimen quickly came to also include Wii Fit sessions and authentic Italian food with some other friends.

Tom leading the pack across the river, just as I thought I'd make it out with dry shoes.

Still, this motivation helped prepare me for the shortest of the three races last Sunday at the Kilimanjaro Marathon. Probably the biggest event in town every year, this brought professional runners from all over East Africa to a sponsorship carnival that happened to have some running involved. After an early morning mixup with the ride situation, we showed up slightly late and had to run to the starting line. Thankfully the mass of humanity there had delayed the start a few minutes, so we didn't miss anything. A lot of the more sane people I know also participated in the 5k, which actually turned out to be a mess of kids cutting corners to get to the finish line for the free goody bag. It also turned out to be 5.2 kilometers, but who’s counting? At the end of this, I felt even more pity for those who were running four-to-eight times as far in the half- and full marathon. Richard, a med student from Duke, is the only person I know who ran all 26.2 miles, which I can’t even fathom doing in this climate. I also couldn’t think of a better way to spend this night than watching the gold medal Olympic hockey game live. While this normally wouldn’t be possible, I used some of my fast internet credit to find a video feed and invited some folks (including one Canadian) over to watch on the projector. Even though it didn’t turn out perfectly in the end, it was an amazing game. It was also amazing to consider that soon it should be much easier for people here to tune in to things like this from halfway around the world.

Can you guess who ran 4X as far as the other?

So enough about the fun stuff…how about the daily challenges? I’d been warned before I came to Tanzania that it’s not a place for “Type A” people – that I should take up meditation before coming here. I tend to be a pretty patient person, so I figured there wouldn’t be much of a problem. It turns out that frustration also comes into play, even when undertaking a mundane task like paying rent. It’s a Tuesday. I decided I’d go ahead and pay for two months of rent, as well as the combined water/security fee (interesting combination). As I show up at work in the morning with cash in my backpack, I run into Francis, one of the administrative assistants who work hard to sort out any issues for us expats. He breaks his conversation to let me know that the director of housing needed me urgently in his office. This was strange, as I had never met this man, and nobody in his office actually knows my name since it is misspelled or left out in most of the records. No problem, though. I’d head over to his office in a half hour to talk with him. Well, he happened to be out of the office…but at least I could take care of the payments while I was there. As expected, it took about ten minutes for them to find the right record book and house number. Then, (also perfectly normal) they asked me how much I pay each month. I have no trouble sharing the right number with them, but it makes me wonder how arbitrary this value was in the first place. Either way, that’s taken care of. But wait, he doesn’t have any change in dollars for me. No big deal, I can apply the change to the water/security payment, right? Actually, he doesn’t know how much I should pay for that, and the woman who does is out of the office at the moment. That’s interesting. He wrote a note to record the credit to be used when I would return later that day, and I got back to work. Upon my return, everyone was in the office and my job seemed nearly complete. I gave the lady my credit note, which had me listed as “Tobias,” and she got to work in the books. What, I didn’t have exact change in shillings? Oh no, this would have to be recorded in two books. Dollars and shillings of various denominations were exchanged across desks, and a receipt was written for “Mr. William.” Before I could point out that error, the man took it back and tore it up. I would need two receipts, of course, since some was going to his pile and some to hers. Or because it wasn’t divisible by 50. I really didn’t know at that point. Anyway, it all worked out in the end as usual, but not without the usual adventure. Oh, and that Friday I finally got around to the urgent issue Francis had mentioned in the morning…I was finally signing my lease after living in the house for a full six months. So it goes.

So close. I got lots of poles at work the next day.

I had also been tested a few weeks earlier, as a pair of second year medical students approached me in our office on a Thursday morning. They said they needed help with the statistical software I had taught to the first years, and that I should give a lecture on it the following afternoon. This would be no problem at all under normal circumstances, but normal circumstances would dictate that I know how to use that specific function of the software, and maybe that I have a way to at least prepare. On the contrary, I had no idea how to do analysis with this software, which I just learned on my own in October and November. Conveniently, the software also doesn’t work on Macs, which dominate our office at the moment. And the lone PC was in the shop. And a virus wouldn’t let me install the program on any other PC. So on Friday, I spent the first twenty minutes of lecture learning about the lecture topic from scratch. It didn’t matter in the end, as it took a little longer for most of the class to trickle in. As I went over the process with everyone three or four times, I felt like I was actually starting to understand the outdated software too.

A 4 hour walk each way for some students

Speaking of software though, a large part of my work has involved learning how to use FileMaker Pro from scratch. In contrast to EpiInfo, this is a very versatile and modern tool that can be used to build almost any kind of form you can imagine. Early on, Brandi suggested I use it to come up with forms for medical data entry. This has branched into four big projects for me, the latest of which involves digitizing surgical records so that patient information can be entered on an iTouch. Ruchi and I are really excited about where this could lead if it works out, and several of the Tanzanian doctors have shown a lot of interest in the program. It probably doesn’t sound exciting at all, but it’s cool to be involved in bringing new uses of technology to a hospital where handwritten records are notoriously inadequate.

51 meters tall, 190 years old

So there’s 2010 for you. February was official outdoor month for me, but I have a strong feeling that the upcoming rainy season will give me more time to keep this updated. By my count, I have a little over three months left here. I’ll be busy with work, figuring out what’s next, and fitting in some final trips, so check back when you have a chance.

Media frenzy at the marathon

This week’s soundtrack:
Bob Dylan – Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright
U2 – Where the Streets Have No Name
Interpol – Say Hello to the Angels
The Decemberists – The Mariner’s Revenge Song
James Taylor – Something in the Way She Moves
Shannon – Let the Music Play
Vampire Weekend – Cousins
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Scar Tissue
Gorillaz – M1 A1
The Smiths – This Charming Man
Arcade Fire – Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)
The Strokes – The End Has No End
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Wet Sand
Chicago – If You Leave Me Now
Modest Mouse – 3 Inch Horses, Two Faced Monsters
Meaghan Smith – It Snowed
Brand New – (Fork and Knife)
Interpol – Wrecking Ball
Moby – Honey
Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Down Boy
Spoon – Don’t You Evah
Interpol – Take You on a Cruise
Sigur Ros - Starálfur

Additional team attire spotted:
Wild
Bills
Magic
Chiefs
Ravens
Saints

Dala dala themes:
Prime Cargo
Dreams
Johnson
Be Real
Hate Me Now
Black Idea
Solidarity
Master P
All Togather
Ice Ice
Prison Break
Black Street
Hard Target
Not Easy
Lucky Stars
Fantastic
Absolute Power
Best Wishes
If Only
Web Suvvy
Dad Roks
Responsibility

Also:
One day after work I received a surprise visit from two of the neighborhood's newest additions. One of them stuck around for some food and pictures, and I named him MJ because it looks like he's wearing one white glove. I'm not sure if he belongs to anyone, but I am sure that he likes eating trash.

Too quick for the camera

Next time:

Safari? Mt. Meru? Kenya again? Who knows?

Manny and Rick fly a kite. Who says white men can't jump?

(Pronounced TEE-zed)

2009-12-21T15:59:00.049-05:00

Writing from Kilimanjaro International Airport in 80 degree weather across from a fully decorated Christmas tree, I’m thinking about all the ups and downs of the past month. It’s been a while since I last posted, so bear with me because this will be a long one. But for those who aren’t too fond of a lot of reading, the lists are twice as long and the pictures twice as numerous so everybody wins.

I normally have the attention span of my neighbor's three month old dog, Moshi, when reading a blog.

Whenever there’s good news and bad news, I tend to ask for the bad news first. I’ve been a little under the weather the past two-plus weeks with a nasty, persistent, debilitating, sudden…cold. Boring in terms of acute infections in Africa, I know, but this one kept me inside for over a week. I have to admit I had it coming, since I had been entirely healthy, knocking on wood, and doing my best not to think or talk about being sick for my first three months. Thankfully I’m patient enough to wait out sore throats, coughing, congestion, and an inability to communicate verbally, but this one is still lingering. After an onslaught of Western remedies from CVS failed to achieve anything, I decided to go for a tried and true local cure: Zanzibar.

One week of self-administered quarantine = lots of movies and lots of Kili pictures.

OK, so maybe it was a little more planned out than that, but I boarded the bus for Zbar (as the cool/lazy kids call it) with a stack of kleenex (a.k.a. napkins) and a complete lack of a voice. It just so happened that my travel buddy, Kelly, had also lost her voice overnight. This would be a fun one. Our coach left Moshi at 7:15 am, miraculously almost on time, and took me east well beyond where I had already been in Tanzania. Although it was still pretty hair-raising compared to a standard Greyhound trip in the U.S., the eight-hour ride was pleasantly uneventful. We passed through the Usambara Mountains, which looked more like the Peruvian Andes to me than an isolated range in East Africa. We watched a movie, Emotional Risk, and its sequel…twice. We saw the reality of bus travel (among the less reputable companies) in this area – an accident that left one bus with a cracked windshield and another on its side. Finally we made it to Dar es Salaam, where our optimistic goal was to catch the last ferry over to the island of Zanzibar. Having consulted friends and Moshi veterans alike, we figured our chances of making it to the island in one day were 25% at best. Still, it doesn’t hurt to set goals, so we caught the first cabbie at the Dar bus stop and (after some haggling) sped through the mid-afternoon traffic of the largest city in Tanzania.

The Belafonte, or just a creepy deserted ship in Stone Town harbor?

Thankfully we had some guidance from Maria, a friend living there, who warned us that it would be a tight connection. She also warned that we would be overwhelmed with hawkers at the Dar ferry office, but we really started to take this advice seriously when our Tanzanian taxi driver reiterated them. If you’re wondering what I mean by “overwhelmed,” imagine you just stepped out of a taxi in a new city only to be greeted by about a dozen young men shouting at you to hurry with them in about fifteen different directions. And we had to keep an eye on our bags. And we had to pay the driver. Oh yeah, and we had to buy tickets before the boat left. Before we knew it we had been shuttled into a tiny office, where one of the guys from outside proceeded to sit down at the desk in the frenzy to appear like he could sell us a ticket. We left Catherine, our Aussie friend from Moshi, in this office and went next door to the resident ticketing desk. An old man seated there brought some calm (and frustration) to the situation when he said we could make it as long as we forked over our money and booked it. One of the “friends” from outside had claimed one of our bags (actually Catherine’s) and led us out around the building. First Kelly and I picked up our ferry tickets on the run, then we proceeded down to the dock hearing a series of “pole pole” (“slow down”) calls from confused onlookers. Just like that scene in Indiana Jones, we made on the boat it right as the gate went up. Winded, we had made it with Catherine’s rogue bag, but no idea if she had jumped on the boat before us. Our self-hired porter demanded money as the boat pulled away, and our Australian friend appeared from around the corner on the deck. All was well as we coasted through the port with two hours ahead of us to come back to Earth.

A rare victory over African tranportation

The ferry encountered some slightly rough seas upon reaching the Indian Ocean, but all in all the trip wasn’t bad and we didn’t see anyone lose their ugali. We met up with Maria and three of her friends on the boat before we arrived in the port of Stone Town at sunset through a graveyard of rusted cargo ships. Of course, the first thing we learned after stepping into town was that the entire island had been without power for a full day and wasn’t expecting it back on soon. Some hotels would have generators, but fans or air conditioning would be a stretch. Again, Maria and her friends came through for the group and used their Zanzibar savvy to find us a cheap place to stay for the night. It may have been the hottest sleepless night I have ever experienced (with the illness still in full force), but it didn’t matter too much since my stomach was full of seafood from Forodhani Gardens and I had a day in Stone Town to look forward to. The charm of this capital city of the former island nation is tough to describe in words. We didn’t go on any tours, see any attractions, or experience any entertainment. Still, just walking aimlessly around town on a hot Saturday morning gave us a taste of this ancient Arab trading center. In terms of architecture, the main focus is on the elaborate doors, but the dirt-worn buildings themselves were dripping with character. The quiet alleyways in the middle of the town were also a welcome change from walking around Moshi, since a wandering merchant couldn’t spot us from a hundred feet away to lure us into his shop. We basically spent the morning taking pictures, complaining about inflated prices, and playing bau (a Swahili board game much like mancala) before catching a van to the east coast for some quality beach time.

One of the many huge decorated doors in Stone Town. The girls were determined to take enough pictures to put together an overpriced coffee table book.

I had heard mixed reviews on both the town and the hotel where we would spend the next four days. Paje is one of the larger coastal towns and thus has a reputation for being slightly crowded and busy. The hotel/resort looked amazing from the website, but of course the only people to write reviews were those who had been thoroughly disappointed. Thankfully our weekend was neither busy nor unpleasant. Dealing with sunscreen and heat in December (still sick) was odd in a bad way, but completely outweighed by the fact that this place represents the picture of “paradise” in my mind. A group of bungalows opened up to a grove of palm trees, the only obstacle between my room and the ridiculously blue ocean. The “resort” consisted of a bar/restaurant/reception area, pool, and about ten beach chairs, but that’s all we needed. The others voted to skip out on any recreational activities in favor of unending lazy beach time, so I’ll have to save any snorkeling or dolphin visits until next time. The beach wasn’t entirely peaceful, as a number of local merchants would approach any tourist offering trinkets, snorkeling tours, coconuts, pineapples, seafood barbecue, massages, etc. This game got old after a while, but we did take up the offer for coconuts. A young guy about high school age would free-climb a 40-foot tree in about 10 seconds and toss his prizes to the ground. He then peeled an opened them so we could drink the juice and eat the inside for a cheap snack. For dinners, all we needed to do was walk down the beach for a few minutes and walk into a place with a generator. This part of the island turned out to be extremely quiet before the holiday rush, so we probably saw barely thirty other tourists the whole time.

Slightly unbelievable

When I ran out of patience for just sitting on the beach, I decided to take advantage of the drastic low tide that opened up hundreds of meters of extra beach to check out. I actually decided to keep going all the way to the breakers (past the reef), which turned out to be over a kilometer from where I started. Unfortunately the coral and sea urchins got the best of me just before I made it to the dark blue waters, but I ended up with a nice little guided snorkeling tour of the seaweed farms and reef bed. Of course this trip had to end, and thankfully Precision Airlines made the trip back much less eventful than the ride from Moshi. Oh, and you ask why the entire island had no power? Their power plant exploded, apparently. Part of me hopes it comes back for the Christmas/New Years crowd, but another part hopes they can see the stars as clearly as we did through the palm trees.

No shortage of priceless lounging spots

To completely defy the laws of chronological order and confuse everybody, I’ll jump back now to Thanksgiving time. I was a little skeptical of the plan…it was the weekend before Thanksgiving and a group of Americans working in East Africa would converge in a private lake house in Kenya for a traditional dinner. Plans beyond that were sketchy at best, but I was excited to reunite with friends I had made on the Uganda rafting trip. If the bus to Dar sounded interesting, you should experience the shuttle to Nairobi. Opting for the more expensive luxury coaster (mini bus), Malavika and I endured the somewhat paved road to the capital of Kenya for more than seven dusty (yes, inside the bus too) hours en route to the lakeside town of Naivasha. The unpredictability of transportation shined yet again as our matatu from Nairobi to the lake town included music videos on a television screen, a stolen (and recovered) cell phone in city traffic, and a transportation center that was impossible for our friends to locate at night. It took some effort to convince everyone we didn’t need a taxi, but eventually we caught up with our ride and finally made it to our destination.

Diversions like this due to construction made for a rough ride to Kenya.

Twiga House is basically a private luxury house on a side-lake of Lake Naivasha. And the great thing about East Africa is that a bunch of regular college students can easily afford to rent it for a weekend. Fifteen of us in total, we put together a few good meals and enjoyed some quality time at the house, but the real fun was had outdoors. Even in the yard, there was a close call with a stray hippo at night and talk of zebras breaking in through the fence. Beyond that, we could see the lazy hippos and flamingos in the lake from the back porch. Believe it or not though, the two adventures of the weekend required us to actually put on shoes and leave the Real World Kenya house.

No biggie, just another cool view from a back porch

Our Saturday trip took us to Hell’s Gate National Park. The ominous name exists for a good reason: the park rests on somewhat unstable geologic formations, resulting in hot springs and an uncommon amount of underground pressure. Kenyan ingenuity has brought about a massive project on this land to run one of the world’s only geothermal power plants, bringing a dizzying amount of pipelines and industrial buildings to the national park. Beyond this first impression, however, we were treated to a day of gorge hiking in terrain that doesn’t seem to belong in the otherwise green Great Rift Valley. For those of you who haven’t been gorge hiking (who hasn’t?), it was basically a long walk through a mini canyon along a thirsty creek.

We thought we were serious hikers until a huge school group in their fancy uniforms overtook us.

To make matters interesting, there were a handful of boulders in the way that required us to make use of what little climbing skills we had packed for the day. Even more interesting was the fact that our Ugandan friend brought along her two sons (about 2 and 5 years old). While our nimble guide took the lead in both climbing and child transport, we all chipped in to make sure the whole group made it through unscathed. Adrian, the older brother, may have appeared tramatized, but he’ll definitely brag about this in five years. The highlights of this hike included finding plenty of obsidian stones, Todd scaling a 25-foot wall without equipment, our guide telling us how Tomb Raider 2 was filmed there, the steaming trickles of water flowing down the walls in places, floating pumice stones, and the fantastic view at the end.

Almost the same view we had at the beginning of the hike, but still much more impressive this time

The second trip started out exactly the same as the first: we arrive at the park, guards ask for a standard exorbitant entry fee, Damian commences bargaining, and about 15 minutes later we all enter at a discounted student/volunteer/resident rate. This time his American negotiating charm gained us access to the Naivasha Country Club, which is pretty much exactly how you’d imagine an African country club on a lake. We weren’t there for tea and croquet, however. We just wanted a place to catch a boat across the lake to Crescent Island, one of the only places on the continent where tourists can do a self-guided walking tour among wildlife. Given, the wildlife is limited to the tame variety – giraffes, zebra, and wildebeest mostly – but it made for some nice photos. It also provided an opportunity for Miriam to fulfill her lifelong dream of chasing down a pack of zebra for the sole purpose of frightening them enough to make a noise. Unfortunately science still may never know what sound a zebra makes, but at least we didn’t have to deal with any angry guides or park rangers afterwards.

The giraffes and zebra were pretty skittish the whole time, but a few of us managed to creep within about 30 yards at one point. None of the pictures will show it, but being this close really gives you a better idea of how these creatures are simultaneously so enormous and graceful. Our boat ride back to the country club was spiced up when the captain of our six-person vessel offered to throw some bait out to lure the fish eagles close. This well-rehearsed show consisted of the guide whistling, showing the fish, and throwing it into the water just before the eagle would appear out of a treetop from several hundred yards away to grab the snack with its talons. Obviously I wasted all of my chances to see this while I stared at my camera to get the perfectly timed shot…which of course didn’t happen. Lake Naivasha was another successful outing on this trip, but what would it be wit hout a movie reference? Out of Africa was filmed on Crescent Island, and the animals we saw were descendents of those that were brought in just for the movie. I guess you can’t escape Hollywood even when you least expect it.

If only giraffes could use phones, Anne and Damian would have a restraining order out against them.

Thanksgiving in Moshi provided two additional traditional dinners, spoiling me beyond belief. All three of these even featured turkey, which is a miracle be cause Nairobi is the only place one can find it in this part of the world. The Bowes hosted a smaller doctors compound get-together with some friends who were visiting from the States. As always the food was great (probably with the exception of the cheese/garlic bread I threw together at the last minute), but this happened to be the night the termites emerged from the ground in full force. All it took was a brief afternoon shower, which isn't out of the ordinary, but the air was thick with small, blind versions of dragonflies. These bugs obviously wanted in on the festivities, as they found any chance to sneak in a cracked door or through a hole in the window screen. Luckily for us, the fact that they can't see anything makes it very easy to swat them out of the air and send them back outside to find their own food. I've only witnessed this strange occurrence one other time so far. On one of my sick days home from work, a steady stream of the creatures emerged from a patch of land in my backyard for fifteen minutes straight as "Flight of the Valkyries" played in my congested head. Back on topic though, the second Moshi Thanksgiving dinner was at the Crumps' house down the road. These folks also know how to host, as w e were treated to games of mafia and guess-the-famous-person-written-on-the-card-attached-to-your-back among a nice group of kids and adults from the KCMC and ISM communities. And what Thanksgiving dinner isn't complete without a post-dessert live viewing of a New Zealand vs. France rugby match (with enthusiastic narration from the resident Kiwi)?

Sunset over the Rift Valley on the way to the lake house

As always, life hasn’t just been trips and adventures. Work as usual has been going pretty well, and the first year medical students at KCMC just concluded their Community Health projects with presentations last week. It was very interesting to see the responses they came up with on their own to the problems witnessed in all the different villages. Many of them were shaky in their presentation skills, but I saw a lot of improvement in critical thinking over the course of the project. I also think it’s priceless that they have had a chance to do meaningful fieldwork immediately upon starting their medical training. It’s probably just the public health bias within me, but I think American college and medical students could learn a lot from experiences like this early on in their education. It was also flattering and a little weird to see some of the groups acknowledge me in their poster presentations…as “Dr. Andrew.” If people start taking that thought seriously (along with the “occupation” line on my res ident’s permit), it can only mean trouble.

Outside the local primary school's kitchen in the village we surveyed.

So all of that happened since I last wrote, plus I had to say goodbye to a lot of good friends who won’t be back in Moshi next month: Christian, Mirke, Henriette, Linn, Marianne, Hanna, Judi, Daniel, Julianne, Kelly, Fabian, Urs, Josh, David, Jan Willem, Wouter, Steph, Magda, Helena, etc. etc… It will be nice to meet some new folks in January and see some familiar faces, but hanging out with this international group was a very cool experience over my first four months in Moshi. My plane home for Christmas just landed, but I’ll get back to writing in January for Part II of my Moshi experience.

Marianne and Linn just before heading back to Norway, (via Zanzibar) the land of Christmas lottery tickets and all things floppy.

PS: Please excuse the sloppy writing, as this was done entirely in airports and I'm too tired to look back over it. A million bonus points to anyone who gets the reference in the title of this post.

Looks like dinner time at the lake house.

This week's soundtrack:

UB40 – Red Red Wine

Frank Sinatra – Somethin’ Stupid

Kenny Rogers – The Gambler

Rammstein – Seemann

Fleetwood Mac – Silver Springs

The Kinks – Strangers

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Black Tongue

Michael Jackson – Bad

The Decemberists – The Crane Wife 3

Modest Mouse – Teeth Like God’s Shoeshine

Bob Dylan – A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall

Arcade Fire – Keep the Car Running

Bob Marley – Iron Lion Zion

Modest Mouse – Edit the Sad Parts

The Walkmen – Wake Up

Cold War Kids – Hang Me up to Dry

Frank Sinatra – That’s Life

Pink Floyd – Us and Them

Eddie Vedder – Hard Sun

Arcade Fire – Woodlands National Anthem

Al Green – I’m So Tired of Being Alone

Johnny Cash – I Got Stripes

Shannon – Let the Music Play

Othar Turner & The Rising Star Fife & Drum Band -- Shortnin' / Henduck

Zanzibar bonus disc:

The Kinks – Apeman

Booker T. and the M.G.s – Green Onions

The Beach Boys – Sloop John B.

Vampire Weekend – Mansard Roof

Led Zeppelin – D’Yer Mak’er

Jack Johnson – Symbol in My Driveway

Toots and the Maytals – Pressure Drop

Bob Marley and the Wailers – Sun Is Shining

Three Dog Night – Shambala

311 – I’ll Be Here Awhile

Israel Kamakawiwo’ole – Henehene Kou ‘Aka

Jack Johnson – F-Stop Blues

Additional team attire spotted:

Raptors

Phillies

Dolphins

Bills

Brewers

Browns

Lions

Sharks

Bears

Pistons

Red Wings

Royals

Bengals

Falcons

Spurs

We also spotted this guy's attire: flannel shirt, long pants, and Gilligan hat while windsurfing. He deserves a blog of his own.

Dala dala themes:

Super custom

Rastababy

Super Wax

Rap

Said n’ Said

B 52

Bulldog

Happy Nation

Ranger

Redemption Express

Take it easy

The Barack Obama

Hello Express

Red Card

Super Man Digital Movement

Revelation

Jubilation

Ruff Ryders

Soft Cotton

Love Situation

Hot Stepper

Kazakhstan

Brenda 09

Small Axe

Laizor Son

Bad Intension

No Way Out

Texas Boy

Tough Luv

The Spike

West Life

Jewel

No Air

Hustle & Flow

Katalyst

Dear Folks

Sly

Wrong Number

Mayhem

The Rock

Providence

Dreams

Cocktail

Marine

Dear Mama

Undisputed

Nice Guy

Country Boy

Flipper

Memories

The Ol’ Skool

Chain Game

Area Code

Testimony

Unfinished Riddle

Dipset

Struggle

Precious
Black Marker

Testament Restored

Love Me or Leave Me Alone

Confusion

The Wailers

You Never Know

Suprise

dag

Bridal

Digital Control

Ride on Time

Perfect

2Pac Life

No Objection

Skyline

j.com

Sunset Beach

Paradise

Hollyhood

i-pod

City Jet

Inflammable

King of the Road

Makaveli

Hakuna Umeme, Hakuna Matata

2009-11-17T06:42:00.004-05:00

No power, no worries…although we have had to live by this mantra since I arrived, the situation has been greatly improved for the first two weeks of November. Nevertheless, of course it was out for our first attempt to have a doctors’ compound movie night last week. That night turned into a nice candlelight and Chinese food get-together in A33 though, and the beginning of a weekend full of new international friends and experiences (good and bad) in this unpredictable country.

For months, Malavika and Dr. Wilkinson had been working hard to put together a big blood drive in Moshi. Working in KCMC’s surgical theater, he often sees women whose surgeries are delayed indefinitely just because there is no blood available at that particular time. The good news for Moshi is that there is a blood bank across the street. The bad news is that it is typically poorly stocked (despite being well funded), partly because it is stretched thin being one of four such centers in a country of 45 million people. Although a number of recruits for our blood drive had flaked out citing anxiety over testing, mistrust of anything medical in Africa, and disdain for KCMC, the turnout more than doubled our expectations (cue Cameron Crazies) with a final count of 61 units. I was one of the first to donate in the morning, and the process went very smoothly. Compared to Red Cross procedures, the donation was stripped down to the bare essential steps: medical history, hemoglobin check, blood pressure/pulse, cleaning the site, filling a bag, stopping the bleeding, and snacks. Absent were the private cubicles, extra collection test tubes, bar code scanners, repetitive questions about my name and any iodine allergies, and exit paperwork. Either way, I gave some blood without any issue, and at no point did I feel uncomfortable about it. Malavika did a great job talking the blood bank folks into spending a whole Saturday on this, all while turning on the charm to convince anyone with a heart and veins to donate. We’re hoping to duplicate this effort again early next year to make it into a sustainable event including ex-pats, KCMC staff/students, and townies.

Take that, Red Cross donation exclusion criteria.

Saturday night’s post-blood drive celebration introduced me to some new people, including the Aussies David and Josh, as well as the Germans (who were happy to meet someone who speaks German) Daniel and Judith. By the end of this, what had been a small maybe-trip planned for the next morning to the waterfalls at Marangu turned into a 12 person entourage. See the attached pie chart for a breakdown of the nationalities represented:

And a partridge in a pear tree...

The day started out just fine…the Moshi veterans showed the newcomers the ropes in terms of taking the dala dala to down, most of the group having arrived just that week. The frustrations started when we found a dala dala to drive us the half hour to Marangu. Being beckoned by conductors wanting to take us to every other part of the region, we dodged through a few cars before finding one man calling out “Marangu Marangu Marangu.” He told us it would cost 1,000 shillings (75 cents) and we departed with no issue beyond the engine’s suspect performance. Ten minutes down the road, when the time came to pay up, of course the conductor started asking for 1,500 shillings. While we didn’t care about paying the extra 30 cents, a price list and word from friends confirmed the more expensive price as the real one…meaning we had been lied to. With that more or less settled, we jumped out of the dala dala in Marangu to be mobbed by 4 or 5 self-proclaimed independent guides willing to take us on a combination of cultural and nature tours in the area. Prices offered were in excess of five times what friends had paid in the past, so we moved along. One particularly persistent guide named Kenneth ran after us and bargained with us to cut his price in half and show us everything we had come to see. Cut to 20 minutes later, and we are at the first waterfall arguing with him about why he suddenly raised his prices to include admission fees at each of the stops we would be making. The sitting around while waiting for an explanation as to why the guide kept changing his story really killed any early excitement the big group had for the day’s hike, but we finally found another guy who spoke more English and talked Kenneth into a modified route for the same price. Outside of him asking for another price hike at the very end of the day, everything else went fairly well, as we literally took the roads less traveled to see a few smaller waterfalls. Back at KCMC we heard several other stories about Marangu guides taking advantage of tourists in all kinds of ways to make an extra buck, so it looks like we won’t be back there anytime soon without a Tanzanian friend who knows what they are doing. Still, we grabbed some nice pictures and spent quality time with a group that should be together here for another month or so.

David demonstrating Marangu policy on entrance fees outside the "underground cave"

Other than that, life in Moshi has been pretty standard the past two weeks. When I haven’t been busy with Thursday lectures and field visits with the med students, I’ve been working on a few databases at work. It’s actually a surprising amount of design and layout work (thanks, yearbook skills), which should simplify data entry in the future and hopefully help transfer a few processes around the hospital to digital formats rather than paper records.

Some children gather water from a natural spring in the village of Rawuya Mamba, where I've been doing work once a week

Winding down from this past week at work, a bunch of people came over to my place for the first time to watch a movie. Of course on Friday the 13^th Murphy’s Law was in full effect, as the bulb in the projector burned out after five years and the readability of the subtitles for Slumdog Millionaire suffered from the poor quality of the 40 in 1 DVD. These miracles of modern technology can fit anywhere from 10 to 40 movies on the same disc, and typically cost about 3,000 shillings downtown. Video quality and whether or not the disc will actually play…that’s another story. It’s still nice to know that I can watch Speed 2: Cruise Control and Mission: Impossible 3 on the same Keanu Reeves vs. Tom Cruise DVD whenever I want. Don’t tell the economists now, but I’m pretty sure this is the reason behind any success they’re seeing in China and Dubai.

Falls near Marangu, but not the cliche tourist ones

I’ve also had to find ways to pass time in the evenings after work. Since dusk is between 6 and 6:30 year-round here and it’s not easy to get around outside the compound after dark without your own car, there’s not really much to do. Not to worry though, as I typically listen to a few Stuff You Should Know podcasts while making dinner, then watch an episode of The Office (with deleted scenes and commentary). Dinner usually means some kind of pasta or ramen, but on Fridays Beatrice started making some special rice dishes for me. Snacks or appetizers usually take the form of a PB & J sandwich, or a nutella and banana sandwich if I’m lucky and the kitchen is stocked.

One of the many obstacles on the hash

The largest wild animals I’ve seen here in town have been hedgehogs, but the most prevalent by far are ground termites. In the process of digging out their complext networks of underground tunnels, these blind insects create spontaneously placed mounds that I’ve seen reach up to at least ten feet in height. Another weird aspect of living with these termites is the sound they make. My first experience with this occurred when I was walking home at night from across the street. When I reached the end of my driveway, it suddenly sounded like the ground was moving in response to my movement. Naturally, my instincts told me I was surrounded by giant snakes and would have to make like Indiana Jones if I ever wanted to reach my front door. Frozen in place and scanning the area with my cell phone flashlight to no avail, I walked on unscathed. The next day, Aaron and Sarah told me these were just the termites scurrying around as I walked on top of their domain. Luckily, these guys stay outside (knock on termite-free wood)…the lizards, on the other hand, enjoy being indoors about as much as I do. Actually, most of the bigger lizards I have seen stay outside, but my house has plenty of geckos that live in the garage and venture inside every once in a while. Thankfully, they prefer bugs to the food in my kitchen, so in the end it’s a feel good story of mutualism in action. I even witnessed one of the geckos in my garage take out a grasshopper his own size one night:

The Planet Earth film crew would have been jealous.

Back to current events, my fourth hash (the 174^th in Moshi) was yesterday, and it was probably the most adventurous one yet. Hanging back with the walking group this time, we crossed the same river at least five times (without the benefit of stepping stones), pole vaulted across an irrigation canal, waded through some mud, and saw a few loud monkeys in the trees. This was the first time I remembered both to bring my GPS watch and to start it on time. Hopefully you can see a map and some stats about the course here.

The pole vault challenge...

...and the result

I almost forgot to mention that I returned to Arusha National Park, about an hour away from Moshi, for another day trip safari. Although Dr. Wilkinson, Naz, and I had a few run-ins with a grumpy tour driver about park rules, we saw plenty of zebras, giraffes, baboons, and colobus monkeys. We also had some great views of Mt. Meru doing its best (active) volcano impression and heard that one of the other groups spotted an albino baboon, which is apparently once-in-a-lifetime rare.

Who took all the baking soda and vinegar?

Dala dala themes:

Tommy Boy

FANTASTIC

Happy Star

The Blues

Love Boat

Unreasonable Doubt

Bushbaby

The Limousine

Rose Trumpet

Jeans

Air Force

Back Town

Additional team attire spotted:

Atlanta Braves

Buffalo Sabres

Colorado Rockies

Kansas City Chiefs

Florida Panthers

Dallas Cowboys

Tennessee Titans

This week’s sountdtrack:

Bob Marley – Small Axe

Weezer – (If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To

The Strokes – Under Control

Toto – Georgy Porgy

Lucky Dube – God Bless the Women

Coldplay – Green Eyes

Sammy Stephens – Flea Market Montgomery

Queens of the Stone Age – I Was a Teenage Hand Model

Interpol – Who Do You Think

Detroit Cobras – Cha Cha Twist

Herbie Hancock – Rockit

Empire of the Sun – Walking on a Dream

Boy Kill Boy – Suzie

Dave Matthews Band – Let You Down

Coldplay – Lovers in Japan [Osaka Sun Mix]

Nada Surf – La Pour Ca

Scorpions – Wind of Change

The Guggenheim Grotto – Philosophia

The Shins – New Slang

The Golden Republic – She’s So Cold

No Fi Soul Rebellion – Let’s Pretend

Big Audio Dynamite – Rush

The Walkmen – Another One Goes By

Bonus video:

Next time:

A weekend on the lake in Kenya and the irony of ex-pat Thanksgiving festivities in Moshi

In other news:

I can’t forget to send along congratulations to Brandi and Scott after the birth of their daughter Katie on Friday morning. I know she hasn’t been here yet, but I’d be willing to bet that baby probably already has a taste for wali maharage and Stoney.

Please leave comments...your updates, questions, complaints, requests, etc...

"This one will affect you psychologically."

2009-11-01T18:52:00.003-05:00

Life here has been good. For my second international trip since arriving here, I joined Malavika and a group of her friends for a long weekend in Uganda. We got to spend about a day and a half in the capital city of Kampala, where two members of our crew have been conducting different types of health research since the summer.

The view of Kampala from Miriam's place

There wasn’t much of a plan going into this leg of the journey, but just in the first night we experienced an African art gallery, a blackout speed dinner with the assistance (and entertainment) of head lamps, an outdoor street ball-style basketball game under the lights, and Ghana beating Brazil for the Under-21 World Cup (on TV). As if that wasn’t interesting enough, the power was also out for the art gallery. As far as we could tell by the light of our cell phone flashlights, some of the paintings were amazing, and all were nowhere near our price range. The basketball game was also unforgettable. Team Power ended up narrowly defeating the Falcons despite a miraculous fourth quarter comeback, but the basketball was outstaged in the end by a “loose cannon” fan determined to entertain. We started to get the idea that he may have been under the influence of something after his over-the-top performance in a halftime shooting contest.

Devastated after losing the contest

For the rest of the game, he took it upon himself to practice his moves (with or without a ball) out on the court during timeouts. He was eventually forcefully removed from the premises, later to return with a bandage around his head. He did a good deal of wandering around the court after the end of the game, and managed to find his way to our group to tell us about Diego Maradonna and [unintelligible]. All in all, the game was a success. The next day we all met up again for lunch in a modern shopping mall food court, where we were swarmed by waiters in a 1:1 ratio and presented with just as many different menus.

Kampala's two shopping malls (left and right), and probably the future site of the third (center)

We then walked through what has to be the busiest part of Kampala (or K’la for the cool kids): the bus stand. The five-minute walk from the main road to the bus we eventually chose was exhaustingly overwhelming for me. People traffic, road traffic, and and endless stream of aggressive wandering merchants combined to create a perfect storm of “get me out of here.”

Luckily, we did make it out of there after some miraculous shuttle bus maneuvering. Oh yeah, and the bus took us north to the city of Jinja, where we were to go rafting at the source of the Nile River. Minor detail. I think the whole group (seven of us at the time) had either read or heard something about this rafting experience, and only two or three of us had been rafting at all before. Another four joined us for a fancy dinner complete with “hot banana brandy” for dessert, before we shared some time cringing at the stereotypical extreme sports/snowboarder party taking place in front of us at the campsite’s bar. On the bright side, this bar had a porch with an amazing view of the river from the top of a cliff.

At the post-rafting barbecue

While waiting for our ride to the rafting company’s headquarters in the morning, a talkative Scotsman named “Fraggle” guaranteed we would have the time of our lives that day. He also tried to point out the falls in the distance that would be a 30-meter sheer drop. We found out later that this was a slight exaggeration, probably because the party was still taking place that morning for Fraggle. Next came breakfast, a safety briefing, and a cattle car parade of foreigners through town to the river. Let’s just preface the rafting story with the undeniable fact that I applied two (2) generous layers of SPF 50 sunscreen before we departed. My group of seven ended up with the coolest rafting guide ever, hands down. His name was Tabani Tabani (meaning “be happy”), and he was the steady elder guide with realistic expectations for what the group could do. During the day, he showed us around his “office” and took us through a series of class 1-5 rapids. He gave us a thorough on-boat safety crash course, and we would typically stop for a few minutes before each serious rapid to discuss the plan of attack. During one of these pep talks, Tabani bluntly informed us, “This one will affect you psychologically.” Thankfully, we handled that one well and our psyches emerged unscathed. We went for a few swims (voluntary and involuntary), had some water wars with other rafts, saw huge monitor lizards, and had fresh pineapple for lunch on the boats. I ended up in the front of the raft for the whole day, I guess because I was the one who didn’t want to go on the “easy raft.” In reality though, everyone took some spills and nobody was seriously hurt. There was one possibly broken finger in our boat, but only two of the five minor injuries I ended up sustaining in Uganda were rafting-related. Speaking of spills, my group only ended up flipping twice, including the last run in “The Other Place,” sister falls of the infamous “Bad Place.” The first flip was actually much more fun than it sounds. Our raft made it through one big swell, but suddenly was turned to the left in a trough as we approached the next wall of water. The next thing I knew, I was floating down the river with my paddle and scanning for the helmets and life jackets bobbing up and down around me. I swam back to the raft and grabbed onto the rope as Thabani pulled himself up and stood on top of the flipped vessel, spontaneously bellowing a triumphant song of joy, before hooking onto the rope with his paddle and leaning back to flip it over again. Everything about the day was so perfect that something had to go wrong, right?

Probably the worst picture ever created of me, but Tabani is loving life

Well, let’s just say I was marked with my first equatorial sunburn that day. The tops of my knees and feet took the brunt of my 2^nd worst sunburn ever, but improved greatly after a week of aloe and painful walking. That said, the trade-off was fair, but I’ll take some long pants next time. Unfortunately we couldn’t take cameras along on the river (obvious reasons), but you can get a feel for it by reading this article or visiting the website of the company we went with.

Last weekend I just kind of hung out around Moshi. The international school across the street had a sports weekend in honor of its 40th anniversary, so I went over and joined in on a soccer game with my neighbor and some of his middle school friends. I'll probably try to start going to play pickup soccer if it's possible, since this was the only time I have engaged in competitive sports I've since I arrived here. At college it was tough for me to go a full week without joining an intramural volleyball game or playing some hockey, so these two whole months have been a challenge in that sense. At least I got to see a big rugby tournament at this school a few weeks ago. Teams came in from Kenya and Uganda, and at the end there was a drum/dance celebration that was cut short by rain.

The crazy guy with the short-sleeved blazer and polka dotted straw hat wonders if the red cloud means rain or impending doom

It has actually rained probably 8 of the past dozen days, which is a huge change after it rained maybe three times in the first month and a half (two of those in the first week). Monday night we had torrential rain, which made getting to work on Tuesday tricky and messy. The short rainy season isn't supposed to be until December, but maybe it's getting an early start after the long drought.

Two weeks ago I actually added an element to one of the projects I’ve been working on at the hospital. I have been working on preparing three versions of a village survey for the Community Health class all the first year medical students at Tumaini University are currently taking. Because of my background and time spent with the survey, the professor invited Sumera and me to give a lecture on interview strategies and etiquette. We learned that morning that at least 90% of the students are straight out of high school, but it’s still tough for me to think that I’m at all qualified to lecture to medical students. Nevertheless, the talk went pretty well. We actually had people asking a few questions and coming up to us afterwards to clarify things. This past week we went with the same group on field visits to different villages in the region. I spent the day with a group that will be interviewing leaders and families in a town called Mamba, near where most Kilimanjaro climbs start. It was a very small town and 100% of the group interview was in Swahili, but it was nice to see a different setting and learn some new things (after translation). The day as a whole was one of the strangest I've had in a long time, though. On top of the fact that there was basically zero English spoken the whole day, the shuttles set up for the students were about as organized as dala dalas. We were delayed in the morning when it was time to leave because, surprise...50 people can't fit into a 30 person bus. The solution? Squeeze everyone in and drop off ten to take a dala dala the rest of the way. The interview time also had an unusually high concentration of awkward silences, especially when things shut down for a 15 minute peanut break and silence prevailed. All of this is from my moderately acclimated American perspective, however, and I think the day was beneficial for everyone in the end. That night some folks from the hospital went around the corner to the tiny grocery store for their special pizza night. This old German couple who has been here off and on since 1961 and have run the radiology department at KCMC basically ever since treated all 11 of us. The wife was born in East Prussia, so I spent some time speaking German with her and discussing the work (and pronunciation) of one of my major advisor’s favorite public health minds: Rudolf Virchow.

For Halloween a bunch of people got together to return to the ex-pat bar called the Watering Hole for a little party. It was mostly just a chance for the Europeans to laugh at the Americans, but at least half of the people ended up coming in costume. Due to a lack of real costume resources, I decided to go as “mzungu sana,” or “very white/foreign.”

"I'm not from here."

My head lamp, travel guides, hand sanitizer, and Nalgene bottle actually came in handy, plus I learned what IKEA stands for.

Today was my third hash, and I actually decided to run it for the first time. My cross-country coach would be proud—this course took us through a huge coffee plantation and across a river. While it wasn’t necessarily the same as running XC (because you need to find the proper trail), we covered about 7.5 km in less than an hour. This time I even actually remembered to bring my GPS watch along, which is the true sign of a dedicated hasher. The walking group ended up pretty significantly off course, but all was forgiven after an assisted shortcut and pizza for dinner afterwards.

Notice I'm behind even the older crowd

The internet saga at home continues for me, and it's only working in one of the two offices at work. Basically I received a “special free offer” for the first month when I bought the my modem. I was told it might be a little slow, but then it ended up being very fast. Two weeks ago I renewed it and bought another month of airtime thinking it would still be fast...and it was very slow. So we know it's possible for my modem to be fast, but they say they don't know why that happened. In reality, I know there’s a guy sitting in a cubicle at the office who pushed the SLOW button when I renewed. After way too much time researching the issue, I have found that this particular provider (rhymes with Slowdacom) has two options:

- Unlimited usage internet at a very slow speed and reasonable price

- Limited usage (1GB, 2GB, or 5GB over 3 months) at a moderately fast speed and high price

I’m really hoping more than ever that the mysterious fiber optic cable will inspire them to flip the switch back to FAST sometime soon.

I didn’t set my clocks back last night, but that’s because we don’t observe daylight savings here. That means the time difference just jumped from 7 hours to 8 hours, so keep that in mind if you’re trying to get in touch from the States.

Dala dala/Matatu themes:

Big Boss

Big is Big

Back to Jesus
Obama Express
Fun is a Must (Land Rover, but I'll count it)

Not sure why this was parked at the mall...

Additional team attire spotted:

New York Rangers

Texas Rangers

New York Mets

Pittsburgh Penguins

Toronto Maple Leafs

Houston Astros

San Diego Padres

Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Toronto Blue Jays

New Jersey Nets
Golden State Warriors

This week's soundtrack:

Phil Collins – One More Night

Cyndi Lauper – Time after Time

Arcade Fire – Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)

Incubus – Are You In?

Sublime – Jailhouse

The Beach Boys – Good Vibrations

Fatboy Slim – Build It Up, Tear It Down

Modest Mouse – Trailer Trash

Modest Mouse – Fly Trapped in a Jar

Counting Crows – Round Here

Led Zeppelin – Kashmir

James Brown – Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag

Hockey – Song Away

Arcade Fire – Windowstill

Ronnie Hudson – West Coast Poplock

The B-52’s – Rock Lobster

Timbaland – Here We Come

Next time:

Another day trip safari, a blood drive, and Thanksgiving in Kenya, among other things of course.

In other news:

I don’t think I mentioned that I actually saw Lake Victoria for the first time. Awesome. Below is another picture of the river to make up for my lack of pictures of the lake.

Only in Kenya

2009-10-12T17:27:00.002-04:00

It’s not that Tanzania was getting boring, but I just had to jump at the opportunity to spend a week in Kenya. Before I left Durham, my co-worker from the past three summers, Charles, had extended an informal invitation to join him for a meeting in Eldoret. I had done some work on the side to help him develop a website and strategic plan for his project (the Association of Research Administrators in Africa), and thought I’d just tag along to help things run smoothly at the group’s first official meeting. For anyone who doesn’t already know Charles, I need to preface this whole story by saying that he’s the most happy, outgoing, easygoing, and go-getting Nairobian/Durhamite I have ever met. His enthusiasm about the Association is contagious, so it wasn’t a tough decision to leave Moshi for a week.

Jump to the Monday before my planned Wednesday flight. Charles emails me in the afternoon asking if I could fly up a day early to help set some things up before the meeting. This doesn’t seem like a big deal, so I say sure and start to leisurely make some calls and send some emails to change the itinerary. Problem 1: the flight to Nairobi is full. Yikes. A slight panic ensues and I start asking friends how bearable/reliable the bus to Nairobi is. There’s also a question of whether I would get there in time for my second flight to Eldoret. My communication skills were really put to the test as I tried to connect with a friend of a friend (whom I hadn’t yet met) living in Nairobi to set up a backup plan, as well as the driver who may or may not be picking me up at 6am to take me to the airport. This was all put to rest at 10:30 that night, when the travel agent called back to tell me I had a full flight booked (albeit without any proof other than a few numbers scribbled down on a post-it). Needless to say, I stayed up way too late packing because I had overlooked the one thing that needed to be done either way. The flights were uneventful, aside from the fact that it was my first time in a propellor plane since my first flight. We didn’t want to risk getting stuck in traffic or running into trouble downtown, so Frank and I soaked in the sights and sounds of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport for the entire seven-hour duration of our layover. And by that, I mean we ate lunch and sat for a really long time…we didn’t exactly have access to the Government Lounge.

Panic ensues.

The first big surprise about Eldoret hit me as we landed. There appeared to be water falling from the sky in small droplets. It took a second before I remembered that it actually rains from time to time in some parts of the world. After a cab ride spent wondering how I would survive in this crazy climate, we arrived at the Hotel Sirikwa near downtown Eldoret. While it’s probably past its prime, I can’t complain too much about the place. There was a pool, a restaurant, fake animal heads on the balcony, and even wireless internet. The next four days were spent organizing, powerpoint editing, nametag creating, videotaping, website updating, and generally assisting Charles with anything that needed to be done for the 55+ people who showed for the meeting. It was an extremely busy and exhausting week, but in the down time I got to spend some quality time with folks from all over Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania (including a lawyer, a marine biologist, and a medical school Provost).

Life in my first real hotel room as part of a business trip was made even stranger by the presence of a TV. For those of you who haven't experienced Kenyan basic cable, here's a cross-section of the programming available at 9 on a Tuesday night:
CHANNEL 1: Filipino family soap opera, dubbed in American English and painstakingly enunciated
CHANNEL 2: American teen drama intended for an elderly audience (think Lifetime network)
CHANNEL 3: [dark snow]
CHANNEL 4: [light snow]
CHANNEL 5: Police drama in Kenyan English
CHANNEL 6: Aforementioned American teen drama
CHANNEL 7: Ibid.
CHANNEL 8: Aforementioned police drama
CHANNEL 9: Fear Factor
CHANNEL 10: Teen drama

"But mother, I just do not think that Tony is that into me."

Each of the two meeting days in Eldoret were capped with a tour of a local AMPATH facility. The first tour took us to the Imani Workshop, a program designed to provide steady work and access to services for HIV/AIDS patients and others in need. The women working here made everything by hand, including jewelry, paper products, ceramics, and tote bags. Our group pretty much raided the gift shop after the tour, and I may have taken care of a lot of Christmas shopping early. The second tour showed us the AMPATH offices/clinics/labs on the campus of Moi University. The contrast between this place and a hospital like KCMC really shows how extensive collaboration with Western funding sources can make a dramatic difference. At the same time, our tour guides were definitely aware that steps must be taken towards sustainability if these programs are to really have a long-term impact. If you take some time to read up on AMPATH though, many of the programs are very much community-based with innovative strategies to keep them running.

Imani Workshops just after clearing out for the day

Moving along to Nairobi, Charles and I looked forward to a busy weekend without many real plans. The time we spent sitting around the apartment all day Saturday catching up on emails was a pretty poor representation of all that would happen to us around the city. In the following two and a half days we managed to find:

- An apartment with a full kitchen, nice TV, free fast internet, and no blackouts
- A “deep” club called Tacos
- The launch of a soccer tournament on a dirt field
- Raw sewage in the street
- Two ultra modern shopping malls
- Mercedes, Volkswagons, and Subarus
- A fender bender in the middle of downtown Nairobi
- The best pilau I’ve had so far
- A cookout for the promotion of Charles’s old friend
- A flatbed party truck blasting rap music
- Tusker Project Fame on a bigscreen TV (the African version of American Idol)
- Two cooked goat legs
- Fresh chicken at Charles’s mom’s place
- A rush hour standstill in East Nairobi, along with multiple somewhat successful detours (including one passing near Little Mogadishu)
- Dinner at an actual fancy restaurant, including real caesar salad and apple pie
- Cows claiming right-of-way on streets where pedestrians can only dream of it
- A grand total of six (6) full soccer matches on TV

I could go on for a while about most of these, but I’ll at least describe a few…

On Sunday morning I tagged along with Charles to the kick-off event of the Farova Cup tournament, which he and a few buddies worked to put together. The tournament will be taking place around Nairobi until December, bringing in well-known club teams from all over East Africa. In addition, the organizers have developed a set of community-oriented goals: “keeping the streets safe, engaging and encouraging the youth to positively volunteer in the community, tapping and developing soccer talents in the neighborhood, saying no to drugs as well as conveying the Kenyan national motto of ‘Peace Love and Unity.’” It was dubbed Farova after a specific area in Nairobi with a name that has been gradually Anglicized and Jamaicanized into "Far Over" and "Farova." Arriving at the primary school dirt field where the event was to take place, I realized just how much passion there is for the sport in Kenya. Several hundred kids and adults surrounded the chalk-lined (by hand) perimeter of the playing surface, where the footballers slide tackled, danced around empty water bottles, and shot on goals without nets. Where was I during all of this? With a video camera on the sidelines being mobbed by a group of 6-10 year olds. Even though a Nairobian about my age was wielding a similar video camera only a few feet away, apparently the fact that I was the only white person in sight was enough to make the day that much more exciting. While most of them just wanted to be seen dancing on camera, one slightly older boy appeared out of nowhere and decided he wanted to learn how to use the camera. Taking advantage of the fact that many technological terms are identical in English and Kiswahili, I gave him a crash course on zoom, battery, tape, tripod use, and breaking down. He was very professional about the whole thing (even demanded a digital camera lesson), and I left the field confident that he’ll be an all-star cameraman for KTV within five years.

With a side of delicious, please

For those of you who don’t know, pilau is one of the more popular of the traditional East African dishes. At the baseline, it includes dark rice and beef. When Charles’s friend Yusuf took us out to his favorite lunch spot in a back alley, it included much more. First of all, Charles suggested I cut up my complimentary banana and mix it in with the rest of the dish. Then the waitress came back with a tomato-bean soup to add on top. Just when I thought it was safe to dig in, Yusuf warned me that I should probably take out the cardamon and cloves. Basically, this turned into a process of sifting through my dish for things I shouldn’t bite into. Oh, and did I mention we were in a hurry to get to our next meal? We had downed three plates of pilau in about 15 minutes and paid (probably less than $10 total) before I realized the best meal of my time here was already in my stomach.

Fortunately we both speak Smile

Soon after this meal, we dove into some nostalgia by looking through old photo albums at Charles’s mom’s house. Her minimal English and frequent mixing of Kikuyu with Kiswahili confused me several times, but she was extremely welcoming and didn’t hesitate to serve us chicken and mashed potatoes with crushed pumpkin leaves. On the way to our next meal (yes, #3 of the afternoon) we hit the legendary Nairobi traffic. I head heard stories of the 14-kilometer ride from the airport to the city lasting up to three hours, but this was just a typical inner-city logjam. This ride gave me a protracted tour of East Nairobi, a.k.a. the non-tourist part. It was a step above the legitimate slums I had seen in the distance from the highway the day before, but the struggles here were evident and tough to put into words. Pedestrian traffic ruled between merchant shacks covered with tarps, metal, scraps of wood, or anything else available. The trash and disorganization made me feel out of place and uncomfortable, but Charles spoke of memories from his childhood and gave me an appreciation of how many people call that area home. The contrasts I witnessed just in that one day in Nairobi added a very local, zoomed in example to my understanding of global inequality.

All in all, I left Kenya with some priceless experiences and an appreciation of the subtle ways it differs from both capitalist America and post-socialist Tanzania. I also left with eight business cards, four bottles of the Kenyan miracle beverage called Alvaro, and the crucial bit of knowledge that traffic lights exist in Nairobi, but only as polite suggestions.

Trailing a matatu...at a safe distance

Matatu (Kenyan dala dala) themes:
Fernando Torres. The Prince.
Punch
Blessed Assurance
Touch and Go
City Boy
Super Sony
Fartleg
Shifter
Biggy is Back
Diplomacy
Alicia Keys
Little Joy
G Phat
Dre Express
Not Guilty
Leather So Soft
In Real Terms

Additional team attire spotted:
Cincinnati Reds
New Orleans Hornets
Boston Celtics
Minnesota Timberwolves
St. Louis Rams
Seattle Mariners
Arizona Diamondbacks
New York Knicks
Chicago Blackhawks
Phoenix Suns
Phoenix Eagles
Baltimore Orioles
New York Giants
Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim
Cleveland Cavaliers
(44/122)

Black market t-shirt dealer

This week's soundtrack:
A Flock of Seagulls – I Ran (So Far Away)
Modest Mouse – Here It Comes
Outkast – Rosa Parks
Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose – Treat Her Like a Lady
Jack Johnson – Tomorrow Morning
The Antlers – Bear
The Doors – When the Music’s Over
Ludacris – Get Back [blasting from a Matatu]
Celine Dion/Kenny G – My Heart Will Go On [heard at least five times in the past week, typically with the volume higher than normal]
Anthony B. featuring Turbulence – Real Warriors [The kids at the soccer tournament couldn’t get enough of this song.]
Lucky Dube – Different Colors/One People [covered on Project Fame]

In other news:
EAWoHNet, one of the larger projects going on here, finally has a website. After many frustrating hours wondering how it can be so hard to publish a simple site, Brandi and I finally have it up and running. Check it out at eawohnet.org.

Next time:
Rugby, housekeeping, and a trip to Uganda…

A Circus, A Safari, A Birthday, and Some Goodbyes

2009-09-27T18:55:00.020-04:00

So sorry to keep you all in suspense again (ha), but this whole writing about my everyday life thing is pretty new to me. I’ll also apologize again for the scatterbrained posts…I’m saving my cheesy ways of connecting everything for any more academic papers I may have to write in the future.

A lizard and a bike pose for a picture in town.

OK where did I leave off?
So I’m up 8-5 in this heated game of ladder golf, but my opponents are locked in on that top rung and the mosquitos are starting to get to me…
Wait, that’s too far.

Speaking of precision tossing skill, why don’t I talk about our trip to see the Mama Afrika Circus? If I’ve learned one thing so far here, it’s that expectations are more useful when disregarded. Some of us were less than gruntled to be at a somewhat tacky looking traveling big top circus on a Monday night. Others were worried that there would be animals to feel bad about. Instead, what we witnessed was a well-orchestrated set of performances including:
- Breakdancing rap jugglers (look out for their hit single, “24/7”)
- A man passing his entire body through a string-less tennis racket
- An African drumline that made me miss college football Saturdays for a few minutes
- The creepiest 12 foot tall clown I have ever seen, followed by the funniest whistling normal-sized clown I have ever seen
- A man on a balance board 20 feet in the air, with about 10 possible directions to fall if he leaned an inch too far
- The most hilarious out of context uses of the NBA on NBC theme song and the catch phrase "Ready to rumble"
All in all, it was the best $2.75 I have ever spent on a night of entertainment. Rumor has it the attendance over the course of their two weeks in Moshi was disappointing, especially considering the fact that this was essentially a once in a lifetime opportunity for people in this area to see some unbelievable things.

Backtracking one day, I can’t forget to mention my second hash. Once again on expectations: I wasn’t too excited about this hike, since I figured the arid lowlands to the south would have nothing on the mountain hike we had completed two weeks earlier. It got off to a nice start when we arrived to see that the starting line was at the hosts’ amazing villa. Think Constant Gardener, with a cooler garden. The hike took us over the river, through the woods, and through some maize fields before we arrived at a cavernous abyss of a chasm. The sight would probably warrant national park status in the US, but here it just snuck up on us. I had no idea a river had carved this canyon/gorge (I’m out of geology terms) only a few miles southwest of Moshi. A few of us were more fascinated than others and stayed behind for an extra look. Standing as close to the edge as I deemed sane, I still couldn’t see the bottom. Using some quick trigonometry, I figured the bottom had to be at least 75 feet straight down (if it existed, that is). The canyon, provided the first real photo op to prove to folks back home that I’m actually in Africa.

Definitely not photoshopped

After completing the hash and its accompanying snack gathering, we headed off to one of the local restaurants in town to join Dr. Wilkinson and his family for a late dinner. This particular one is called Deli Chez (Get it? Delicious? I didn’t…), and as you can tell by the name they specialize in Indian and American cuisine. It was here that I turned down my first opportunity to eat a hamburger in Tanzania, just before I discovered the first hand dryer in the bathroom. Deli Chez is just one of the restaurants that effectively keep ex-pats sane during their stays here. Others include El Rancho (Indian, of course) and Italian Passion (Who knows? I won’t go in expecting Italian food…) On the more traditional level, there are four restaurants close to where I’m living and working that have been great for lunches: the KCMC Canteen, the Tumaini (med school) Restaurant, Jacob’s Well, and Best Bite. Since meat dishes at these places are high maintenance, especially in business casual attire, I almost always go with rice and beans. This full meal runs anywhere from $0.63 to $1.18, and includes complimentary greens and hot sauce. Even at a food truck in Philly, I’m not sure you could haggle for a 63-cent ketchup packet.

Speaking of work (oh yeah, I do that too), I should probably speak of work. I spend my weekdays between two offices at the Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Centre (can’t escape colonialist spelling…) working for a Duke University partnership focusing on women’s health issues. So far, this has included mostly computer work. I am setting up a database for cervical cancer screening data, making adjustments to a comprehensive community health village survey for medical students, and constructing a website for a new women’s health network of collaborators from across East Africa. This job description will probably be different a month from now, since there are so many projects going on and new people to meet. I haven’t saved any mothers or babies yet, but I bet my much more qualified co-workers could keep a tally if they wanted. Even though the hospital is a leading referral and teaching hospital in the country, it is still underfunded, understaffed, and lacking resources, often to the point of frustration. Air conditioners, anasthesia, and pathologists are among a long list of helpful hospital commodities missing here. It’s tough to live with, but helps you appreciate what the doctors adjust to and cope with on a regular basis.

One work-related field trip Malavika (Stanford med student and partner in crime for the next year) and I took recently was to KIWAKKUKI, which is a long Swahili acronym for Women Fighting HIV/AIDS in Kilimanjaro. Even though we were only there for a morning tour of the new offices, we ended up receiving a…unique…welcome. The morning routine at this office is slightly different from anything I have experienced. After all 30 or so people circled around in the lobby while singing a hymn, we greeted each person in a very sportsmanlike handshake line. Announcements from each department followed, including an improvised song and dance for one woman who had gone above and beyond in the past week. Let’s just say I saw it coming. The two young guests of honor, along with our tour guide and KIWAKKUKI favorite Trish Bartlett, received not one, but two dances (after someone mistakenly mentioned that no pictures were taken of the first one). Let’s just say there are now pictures, but good luck finding them.

That’s not to say it is as tough as it initially was for me to share pictures and email over the information superhighway. The week of my birthday I headed to the Vodacom store downtown after work to pick up my own USB modem. Since buying hers shortly after I arrived, Malavika has become the official mzungu referral representative for the company (probably on payroll, but she won’t admit it). She had texted one of her buddies to save a modem for me, and sure enough it was waiting. Instead of paying for the modem plus a restrictive pre-paid 1GB/2GB/5GB usage plan, I was given a free trial of the new unlimited service with my modem purchase. Now in possession of the ex-pat’s holy grail, I proceeded to download podcasts, upload pictures, and share the wealth with [definitely not] desperate friends.

Aaron's Life Aquatic impression (possibly photoshopped)

Oh yeah, I also went on my first safari through Arusha National Park on one of those Sundays. For a full mediocre representation of the awesome stuff we saw that day, check out the photo album on Facebook or Picasa. Our self-guided tour of the park ($35 entry fee, $8 for the car) led us to zebras, antelope, baboons, hippos, warthogs, water buffalo, a lot of giraffes, and about a million flamingos (no exaggeration), among others. Thanks to Aaron’s expert driving on the dusty trails and Scott’s Zissou-like wildlife spotting abilities, the day was a huge success. We were also treated to some great views of Mount Meru and the landscape looking back towards Kilimanjaro. I'm really not good with words, so I'll let the pictures talk.

It's the circle of life, and it moves us all.

My birthday fell on a Friday and turned out to be really nice. After work I said goodbye to Brandi and Scott as they left Moshi for the US. Then Jeff, Sumera, their two kids, Malavika, Aaron, and Sarah hosted a dinner complete with presents, a birthday booklet, chocolate treats, and some amazing banana bread. Just as I was about to go to bed at 11:50 pm, I finally heard by email that I had received the InterExchange grant I applied for. My boss and I had been waiting with our fingers crossed for weeks to hear this news, which helps both the KCMC-Duke program and me greatly since I have no salary here. Believe it or not, the total cost of living for my time here (including flights) is about as much as I would be spending on rent alone if I had stayed in Philadelphia.

Sadly, four of the people who have helped the most in my transition to life here departed for the states last weekend. As I mentioned, Brandi and Scott left first on my birthday. Even though our time here only overlapped five weeks, these two hosted enough dinners/movie nights/internet café sessions/dessert miracles to make me forever grateful. On top of this, most of the belongings in their house were left to plunder due to luggage restrictions…as a result I now have pudding mix, speakers, a Tom Cruise vs. Keanu Reeves movie anthology, and NIGHT VISION GOGGLES. Brandi and Scott are moving to Oregon (at a baby expo as I type this) to revolutionize the state’s obstetric care and establish a college architecture program…no biggie. Aaron and Sarah then jumped on the bandwagon (which is actually a bus to the Nairobi airport) and left the following Monday. The Tar Heel/Blue Devil couple was awesome to have around while sharing Durham memories, Talladega Nights quotes, and a deep appreciation for the game of Blokus. Did I mention how crucial their Swahili speaking and monkey bread creation skills have been? If you see them around, give them a high five for being so cool.

Surprisingly not pictured: Brandi

Additional team attire spotted:
St. Louis Blues
Cleveland Indians
Montreal Canadiens
Seattle Seahawks
St. Louis Cardinals
Chicago Bulls
Detroit Tigers
Carolina Panthers
Tampa Bay Lightning
Florida Marlins
Orlando Magic
Green Bay Packers
(29/122)

Dala slogans:
Hard Target
Don’t Spy My Life
Righteous Man
Happy People
B. Happy
King of the Street Beat
Big Safari Style

Most valuable items:
Flyswatter (heavy duty, minimal recoil)
Book light (doubles as a hands-free shirt clip flashlight)
LED keychain light (always handy for dark roads and blackouts)
Cell phone flashlight (built in—much more useful than a camera phone)

YouTube video of the week:
The Day After Peace
Over an hour long, but definitely worth the time…a documentary about Peace Day and one man’s efforts to make it meaningful.

Bonus video:

If you turn up the volume, you can hear them. Be thankful you can't smell them too.

This week’s soundtrack:
The Cure - Underneath the Stars
The Rolling Stones – Don’t Stop
I Want to Take You Higher – Ike and Tina Turner
ayo – Bibi Tanga et le professeur inlassable
The Doors – Five to One
Pearl Jam – Wishlist
David Bowie – Space Oddity
Modest Mouse – Beta Carotene (Version 1)
Incubus - Aqueous Transmission

In other news:
It’s hockey season and I’m still obsessed. Right now I’m listening to Chuck Kaiton narrate a preseason game online while taking notes for a fantasy draft this weekend. The Ron Francis and Rod Brind’Amour collectible hologram cups are displayed prominently in the kitchen.

Late addition:
This morning I woke up to a call inviting me to help out with a health screening fair in a nearby rural village. With no real clinical experience under my belt and only a very basic handle on Swahili, I was hoping I could move some chairs around or fill out a few forms for people. Instead, I learned how to measure blood pressure and read a pulse before spending seven hours putting these new skills to use on about 200 patients. While I learned quickly how to get the message across that I’m not a doctor, it was great to be able to help out with a project as gung ho as this one. A group of about a dozen volunteers helped to screen, diagnose, test, and distribute cheap medications to a steady stream of local men, women, and children eager for assistance. Apparently the people in this area only see this fair/clinic about once a year, so it’s not such a surprise how quickly the word spread and supplied a steady stream of people all day. All of this took place in a small school building, and of course my position next to the window invited an audience of kids for the last few hours…so much for patient privacy. It felt good to finally do something productive on the weekend after spending most of them taking shopping trips downtown and hiking around with other foreigners.

Unfortunate pole placement, but this is a great group that got a lot done in a day.

That's all for now. This week I’ll be flying to Kenya to meet up with Charles from Duke and help him run a meeting at Moi University in Eldoret. After that, we’ll travel to back Moshi via Nairobi and Meru. Stories to come soon…

Karibu! (Welcome!)

2009-09-06T14:34:00.010-04:00

Sorry for the delay in posting my first real update, and my first real blog post ever. I’m going to try to do my best to keep it interesting, even though it shouldn’t be too much of a problem judging from my experiences so far. I’ll try to organize it into little sub-posts, both to keep my thoughts organized and to keep the reading process from becoming too much of a chore. Please comment away and feel free to share the link with anyone who’d be interested in keeping up with me. I also have to apologize for the cheesy 80s song reference in the blog title...except not really, because it was meant to be.

Speaking of karibu, mine here was nice and uneventful. After a full twenty-six hours and fifteen minutes of travel, I landed at Kilimanjaro International Airport to be greeted by a customs official and a masked ministry of health official handing out immigration and swine flu forms, respectively. My newly acquired resident’s permit gave me a VIP pass to skip the enormous line for the visa office, and all three of my giant checked bags arrived as planned. My next task was to meet up with my driver, a man named Carol, for a ride to Moshi. The scene outside of baggage claim reminded me of the stereotypical mob of depression-era photojournalists outside the city courthouse. A semicircle of at least fifty drivers with signs called out names in surround sound. It literally took a few awkward minutes for me to investigate all the signs until I found Carol leaning over the crowd from the back with my sign. Carol turned out to be a great guy—he was hired a few months ago by Duke after working for a while as a taxi driver in town. He really enjoys his new job because he gets to practice his English…and I get the sense that he enjoys driving as well, since he navigated the tricky highway from the airport at night impressively well.

The Doctors' Compound, where I live in Moshi, reminds me of the Others’ town on the show LOST. A grid of dirt roads connects a group of about thirty houses meant for the crowd of international health care workers stationed at KCMC (Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Centre—where I work). The houses are definitely a throwback, but they are definitely luxurious compared to how most people live in this country. Running (almost clean) water, a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room, and garage are the highlights of my half of this house. The power is routinely switched off for a few hours several times a week, but overall it’s not too different from my previous living situations…just no TV, internet, or air conditioning/heat. Oh yeah, and did I mention I have a huge backyard with an amazing view of the mountain on a good day?

Speaking of the internet, I think it has been the most discussed topic so far among the ex-pats I know. If more of the Tanzanians spoke English, they would probably think we are nuts for being so obsessed. There are hookups in each of the houses, but apparently today has been the only day in the past three plus weeks it has worked. Wazungu (politely, white people) who are fed up with this have started ordering portable pay-as-you-go Vodacom modems like hotcakes. There’s also a trans-oceanic fiber optic cable on its way that is supposed to revolutionize the internet here eventually, but that’s neither here nor there (picture it somewhere between Moshi and the Indian Ocean).

Mama Beatrice, from now on officially the patron saint of housekeeping, has been working twice a week to clean up my place. I try to stay pretty low maintenance, but it’s customary here to hire a house mama to do things I would easily mess up (i.e. laundry and tying up a mosquito net). Beatrice doesn’t speak a whole lot of English, but she has been extremely nice and has a knack for finding things to straighten up that I would have never thought of.

Within my first few days here, my co-worker Malavika proposed that a group of us hike up to the first hut on Kilimanjaro. We packed up our gumption and lunches before grabbing a ride with David (a pediatrician from Seattle), his wife Diane and son Anders, and two neighbors/friends named Sarah and Aaron who work at a nearby NGO. The 45-minute drive took us down the highway through a barren outback-type area, then up through a few tiny mountain villages surrounded by banana trees. As soon as we started to see crowds and signs for the national park at a big intersection, the Land Rover suddenly refused to shift gears. After an embarrassing push with some bystanders and a rolling start (think Little Miss Sunshine), we took off again. About 300 feet short of the gate to the park, the clutch stuck once again and we pulled off to the side. An hour of head scratching, crowd gathering, mechanic friend calling, and mysterious fluid testing later, we headed back down the mountain so as to not chance more car problems in the dark after a hike. With my limited car knowledge, I ducked out of the crowd of 15-20 checking under the hood for most of this time. Two little kids, one boy and one girl, had been running around looking curious, so I decided to take out my digital camera and share some pictures with them. Unfortunately most of what I had was from Germany, and they didn’t seem to understand where this was. Still, they were pretty impressed by the pictures of animals from the Berlin zoo, and I managed to get a picture of my two new friends before the rest of the party almost left without me.

The replacement adventure for the afternoon was a hike along the Moshi River [edit: not the real name...scholars maintain that the this was lost hundreds of years ago...] with Aaron and Malavika. This was obviously slightly less exciting than Kili, but we got to see the rocky river, cross over the infamous and treacherous “Bridge of Doom,” wander around the golf course, and tour through a few of the poorer neighborhoods in Moshi (complete with satellite dishes). We also stumbled upon the Precious Blood Sisters (?) home and what we thought was a police training facility.

The next day provided yet another hiking adventure: the hash. A big tradition among the ex-pats here, this is basically a hike where two “hares” go out ahead of the group and mark a path with flour. This path ends every once in a while at an X, and everyone must find where the trail picks up again somewhere in any direction. My first time doing this turned out very nice, as about 40 of us hiked along the forest line near a village on the lower slopes of Kili. The challenge of finding a broken flour path turned out to be easily fixed, as you usually just follow the group ahead of you or ask someone where the parade of white people went. Naturally this was followed by a sunset cookout with a view of Mt. Meru (Kili’s K2) in the distance. As if I wasn’t already on overload, we met a bunch of people from the states, Holland, Norway, France, and Australia, some of whom will actually be here for a while.

Suddenly getting used to 6:30 sundown (thanks, Equator) here has been tough, but the nights have made up for it. The full moon has been rising right over the mountain since I got here, which was especially cool the one cloudless night we spotted the snowcap on top of the mountain in the dark. One night earlier this week when the power was out, the moon was so bright I looked out the window into my backyard and honestly thought for a second it was covered in snow.

Finally, Thursday night we went to a going away party for my friend/co-worker/official awesome host Brandi and one of the other doctors from KCMC. This included my first trip to the boss’s nice house, along with a gigantic African feast of chapati, samosas, rice, beans, goat meat, and many things whose name will take me much longer to remember. It was slightly better than the first meal I managed to cook at home...which actually wasn't bad. I have also learned that Sprite is actually better here, but I’ll refrain from commenting on how the Coca-Cola Company basically owns this place.

In the meantime, here’s some bonus material…

Plus / Minus:
There are definitely some downfalls and challenges to living here, but it’s never too hard to look at the bright side…

+Great people (Tanzanian and ex-pat)
-N/A

+Relaxed pace of life
-Things take longer to get done, stores/restaurants closed at odd hours

+More paved roads than I imagined
-The dirt roads make up for it

+Cheap electricity bill, Blokus parties
-4 power outages so far

+Lots of recreational reading
-No internet at home

+Amazing views, landscapes I’ve never seen
-Trash problem, since all of it is eventually just burned

+Corn flakes and milk, Stoney soda, El Rancho (Indian food), Chapati
-No Jersey Mike’s franchises (yet)

+Easy to feel productive when boiling water
-Need to boil drinking water

+Lots of space and furniture
-Little use for extra space and furniture

+Open air windows with screens
-Paranoia about velociraptors and chupacabras in my garage because there is no screen

+Convenient living in doctors’ compound
-Isolated and hard to get anywhere else without a car or taxi, especially after dark

+Fewer worries about the creatures I’ve found in the house (1 small lizard, 3 small spiders, 1 cricket, weird ant/gnat/fly hybrids); Impossible to fall out of bed at night
-Sleeping under a mosquito net

+Minimally leaky bathroom
-Shower designed for a 4 foot tall child

Teams:
After my first trip downtown, I decided to keep a running list of the American professional sports attire I spot while here. My goal is to find all 122 of the teams in the four major professional sports (I already have two throwbacks!)
LA Rams
Boston Bruins
Boston Red Sox
Chicago White Sox
Denver Broncos
Oakland Raiders
Washington Nationals
New York Jets
Charlotte Hornets
Philadelphia Flyers
New York Yankees
San Francisco 49ers
Dallas Mavericks
Minnesota Vikings
Pittsburgh Steelers
New England Patriots
Tampa Rays
Los Angeles Dodgers
Chicago Cubs

Vehicle slogans:
Dala dalas (think crazy overcrowded taxi-vans) and taxis here have some uplifting and randomly entertaining English slogans plastered on them. Here’s the Greatest Hits list so far…
Swagger
It’s My Style
Don’t panic
Peace be with you
Respect
No way!

This week's soundtrack:
Coldplay - Strawberry Swing
Green Day - Homecoming
Spoon - I Summon You
The Rolling Stones - Get off My cloud
Iron & Wine - The Trapeze Swinger
The Clash - Straight to Hell
Bob Marley - Small Axe
The Black Keys - I Got Mine

So there are two or three posts in one for you. They’ll definitely be more manageable in the future. Keep an eye out for updates on hash #2, a trip to the circus, and what’s going on at work.

Away We Go

2009-08-22T21:06:00.000-04:00

I'm essentially done packing now, and in 15 hours I'll be on a plane to Moshi, Tanzania. It's impossible to put into words the mix of anxiety, excitement, and curiosity that I've been going through these past few days, but I'm extremely grateful for the friends and family who made this a great weekend in Durham. I've been waiting for this since the idea was first thrown around in December, and I can't wait to join the people I've heard so much about who are living in Moshi.

Hopefully it won't be too long before I can post an update on the 20-hour flight and my first experiences in Africa. Until then, take care and keep an eye out for more exciting posts in the future.